Out of my mind
by Akasha617
Summary: AU: A fangirl goes to Trenton
1. Chapter 1

This is my first chapter of my first Stephanie Plum fanfic, and I appreciate all feedback, please be gentle.

Spoilers: None really, but then again, we see where it takes us.

Rating: PG13 for language, it's adult language

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters.

Out Of my Mind

Chapter 1

Okay, so it was an idiotic idea. What was my point, I answered the accusation in my head.

Clearly, I should by now been able to realize that an idea born between midnight and 4 AM, in a drunken stupor, should be discarded when the hangover wore off at the latest.

But no.

I had flown to New York from Boston to visit my friend Jessica and we had gone clubbing. Afterwards, exhausted from dancing and shitfaced from too may cocktails to count, we were sitting in her living room, when I happened to mention that New Jersey was the next state.

Jessica looked at me as if she was expecting me to go somewhere with that statement.

"Well, you know who lives in Jersey?" I asked, the idea forming in my head.

I knew that she had devoured all Stephanie Plum novels and was just as big as a fan as I was, but it didn't occur to me that she wasn't a mindreader and had no idea what I was talking about.

"A few million people?" she tried.

"Stephanie Plum!", I burst out.

"And?"

Now my patience, which was barely there when I was sober, ran out.

"We could, like, totally drive down to Trenton and take our picture in front of all the landmarks, see if we can find everything she talks about in the books!"

I jumped up with excitement.

Jessica didn't know I had a history of crazy fan girl experiences.

Once, at 16, I had trekked to Sayreville, New Jersey, to find John Bon Jovi's house and high school. One might argue that, at 30, I should have grown out of things like that, but either way, there was precedence.

My friend smiled.

"Yeah, I can see that…" and she giggled.

We spun the thread further, thinking up all the places we could go, finding out if the storefronts really existed and such.

Now, the thing about me is, I can really talk myself into an idea. My mind was set. I think that night Jessica didn't take me seriously.

But the next morning, when she had to get ready to go work, I brought up the subject again.

"So, when are we going to Jersey?"

"You were serious?"

"Well, yeah!"

Unfortunately, she was expected to spend all day at work and go to class afterwards, but she suggested I could go by myself.

When I hesitated, she told me she could get a car from a friend and have me on the road by noon.

So I took off, a map on the seat next to me, bummed out a little that I had to go on my own, but giddy with excitement.

I don't know what I had expected, but I quickly learned that Trenton wasn't anything to write home about. Just a city with ugly industrial sections, neglected residential areas and a whole lot of nothing.

I drove around for a while, no real goal in mind when I read the street sign for Hamilton Avenue.

Finally, something familiar!

Traffic was kind of heavy and cars started honking at me when I tried to slow down to see familiar landmarks.

I had occurred to me that everything in the books was made up, although it was placed in Trenton, until I had discovered the street name.

I parked at the curb, fed the meter and shouldered my purse, ready to go explore on foot.

The weather was nice enough for April, and I was wearing sneakers, so it seemed like a good idea.

My next idea wasn't nearly as reasonable, as I stopped at a pay phone, fed it some money and dialed the operator. I guess I felt safe because it was a public phone, but it was still ludicrous.

It took some explaining that I didn't want 911 but the Trenton Police department's regular number, but before I knew it, the line was ringing.

"Trenton Police Headquarters" a woman answered the phone.

I cleared my throat and gripped the receiver tighter in my sweaty hand.

"Joe Morelli, please." I was amazed at how calm my voice sounded.

"Just a moment."

Holy Shit!

Hang up right this second! A voice that sounded eerily like my mom's chimed up, but I ignored it.

It rang three times before voicemail picked up. A deep voice told me I had reached the desk of Joe Morelli and to leave a message or call his cell.

I was shaking, but I managed to get my pen out and write down the number, having no intention to call it.

I hung up right at the beep and had to stifle a fan girlish scream. This was impossible! There was no way it was THE Joe Morelli, but still!

Boy, would I have a story to tell!

When I got my heart rate under control, I continued walking, a big smile on my face.

On the next block, I almost fainted.

I gasped as I read the storefront sign.

"Vincent Plum – Bonding Agent"

This was so not happening. Clearly, I was imagining at all and would soon wake up on Jess' couch, hungover and tired.

I closed my eyes, took a breath, and made myself count to 10. Then I slowly opened my eyes again, and, sure enough, I was still staring at the sign.

What the hell, I thought, if this was my dream, I might as well run with it.

I made myself step closer and open the door.

This was unreal.

The small office in front of me was exactly as I had read it described in so many novels.

Faux leather couch over here, desk on the far wall, in front of some doors, cheap walnut paneling on the walls.

I must have looked pretty scary, because the woman behind the desk eyed me warily before asking if she could help me.

"Connie?" I croaked.

"Do I know you?" she hadn't gotten up and grabbed her gun, I took that as a good sign.

The fact that I bit my tongue before I said "No, but I know you.' Might have helped.

I cleared my throat and squared my shoulders.

"I'm Lindsey Taylor and I was given your name to apply for a job as a BEA".

I was having an out-of-body experience, there was no other way to explain what I had just said. The name I could explain easily enough, it had been my alias for years, all my friends knew it as the name to address me by in bars and clubs.

But what was I saying?

"It's a dream!" I reminded myself "You can be anything you want to be in a dream."

Although I couldn't recall any dream this vivid before, I decided to go with it. How else was I to explain Joe Morelli's voice mail and this office?

Connie's presence only confirmed that theory.

She looked like a Jersey Girl of the 80's to me, although I hadn't known their style hadn't changed with the new millennium.

Amazingly, her face softened and she got up.

"You'd have to talk to Vinnie about that, and he's in a meeting right now. But I can have you fill out an application and get you started."

Aha! Further proof that this was my imagination, because who in the world would not ask questions when addressed by name by a perfect stranger?

I grinned and nodded, practically falling onto the couch as my knees buckled.

Five minutes later, I stared at the form in front of me and the bogus information I had filled in. Whatever, I thought, the hell with it.

I could barely keep my hand under control, it was shaking so hard.

When the door to the left of Connie's door opened, I jumped in my seat and nearly had a heart attack.

Voices carried out of what looked like an office (Vinnie's office! I reminded myself, Holy Shit!), and Ranger stepped out.

My mind registered this, the name just being assigned to the man in the doorframe, seconds before I began hyperventilating.

I coughed to cover my stupid reaction and looked up to find everybody staring at me.

Connie's eyebrows met with the frown she gave me, and the hunk in the doorframe assessed me quietly.

Tall, dark and handsome. This was clearly Ranger. Or, if not, clearly the basis for the character.

Downing a mental shot, I got up and approached him, extending my hand.

"Ricardo Carlos Manoso? I'm Lindsay Taylor."

What the hell, if he drew his gun, I'd probably wake up sweat-drenched from this nightmare.

I must not have looked threatening in my jeans and t-shirt on my 5'3" frame, since he took my hand and shook it.

I may have had an orgasm on the spot when he spoke.

"Just Ranger."

His dark eyes were fixed on mine, and I just new he was trying to place me and find out how I knew his name.

By now, I was Lindsay Taylor, bounty hunter extraordinaire, not Sandra Cline, systems administrator. Clearly, my subconscious must have been working on this idea for a while, since I had no clue how I managed to stay calm and make my mouth work. There was a substantial part of me that wanted to squeal like a teenager at a boy band concert, but I kept it under check.

My hand was still in Ranger's and our eyes held.

Everyone was looking at me expectantly, I realized.

Buying a moment, I cleared my throat and peeked behind Ranger at Vinnie. Since Connie had all but confirmed he was Vinnie, and the sign on the door said it, I was only mildly shocked to recognize him as well. Hunched over, dark, slicked-back hair, I quickly understood how he could be described as a weasel.

"Mr. Plum, I am from Boston and I'd like a word with you?"

Now I even put a seductive smile on my face, still hoping I would wake up before I'd talk myself into a corner.

Up until now, it was the kind of dream I may remember fondly, but I didn't know what would happen if my infamous verbal diarrhea took over. It may become embarrassing.

Ranger stepped aside, his eyes watching me carefully, and I noticed the gun on his hips.

Vinnie motioned me into his office and took a seat behind the desk.

I realized that this part of the office had never been described fully, so I took a moment to look around.

A desktop computer, a few file folders and a phone on the desk, along with some gadgets and gizmos, an aged carpet on the floor, 2 faux leather and chrome visitor chairs. Nothing I hadn't expected.

Some pictures on the walls, but mostly forgettable.

Vinnie had crossed his legs and sighed.

"Do I owe you money?"

Oh, this was going well. He didn't ask what the fuck I was doing in his office, I took that as encouragement.

"No, no, of course not. Although you may, if you agree to my proposition."

I smiled again and wished I had worn a sexier outfit, because if he was anything like in the books, I could persuade him to do anything with a suggestive smile and cleavage.

As it was, I relied on my 'sexy voice', that I'd only ever practiced in front of the bathroom mirror.

"I would like to work for you, as a bond enforcement agent."

When I sensed his objection, I quickly raised a silencing hand.

"Hear me out. I know you don't know me. You don't know what I can do. So my suggestion is this," I took a deep calming breath "Give me the chump change, the 500 dollar skips, whatever. See if I can deliver. If you like my work, let me advance. In return, you don't ask me any questions and refrain from checking my background."

I thought that last part was necessary because I, Lindsay Taylor, really didn't have a background.

Vinnie seemed to consider. I was getting my hopes up. It was my fantasy, but there was no guarantee my made-up characters would go along with it. Well, Janet's made-up characters, but same thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Second chapter of my first Stephanie Plum fanfic, and I appreciate all feedback, please be gentle.

Spoilers: None really, but then again, we see where it takes us.

Rating: PG13 for language, it's adult language

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters.

Out Of my Mind

Chapter 2

Vinnie seemed to consider. I was getting my hopes up. It was my fantasy, but there was no guarantee my made-up characters would go along with it. Well, Janet's made-up characters, but same thing.

"Do you have any experience? You don't look like a bounty hunter to me."

He was stating the obvious. I looked like a tourist, ready to explore Jersey.

I leaned forward in my chair and hoped I was managing a confident tone when I replied

"Looks can be deceiving."

Granted, an old line, but I had always wanted to use it.

And it seemed to be working; Vinnie didn't throw me out of the office.

"Talk to Connie, see what she has. I give you a week to impress me."

And he turned towards his monitor.

Good, I thought, so far my fantasy was playing along with me.

The fact that my entire knowledge of bounty hunting was based on reading each Stephanie Plum novel numerous times did not deter me.

Since I felt like Vinnie had dismissed me, I got up and made my way back to the front office.

I hadn't even realized I had closed the door on my way in.

Connie was still behind her desk, but Ranger was gone. Good thing too, because I had no idea how much longer I could contain myself in his presence.

"Vinnie has agreed to let me start immediately. Do you have any low bond skips?" I said, putting my friendly smile on once again.

Connie raised an eyebrow and stared at the closed door to Vinnie's office.

"Go ahead!" He yelled out, as if sensing her glance.

I got a feeling she was a bigger hurdle than he was, so I felt the need to embellish my story.

"I just relocated, and I'd like to show you what I can do. What's the worst that could happen?"

I wake up giggling, I answered the question, but Connie seemed to still be considering it.

"OK" she said finally, clearly not convinced.

She rummaged through some folders on her desk and handed me a few.

"I've already made copies, they're all really low bonds, and I don't really have anyone who'd consider them worth while. You might as well give it a shot."

Huh, look at that. I had made myself a bounty hunter.

I had to agree with myself, what's the worst that could happen?

Stuffing the folders into my purse, I turned to leave, my next stop already figured out.

I was going to make the best of this, and my first action would be to look the part.

In my mind, I was picturing the outfit I was going to get and was oblivious to my surroundings as I stepped out of the office onto the sidewalk.

My heart skipped a beat when a voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Who are you?"

Ranger was leaning against a black Porsche, his arms crossed.

The pose emphasized his bulging biceps muscles and I almost drooled.

He was dressed all in black; black combat boots, cargo pants and skin-tight t-shirt, which really did look painted on.

His black hair was slicked back, I was guessing in a ponytail, and he was every straight girl's fantasy.

Well, this straight girl's at least.

My fantasy persona had a lot more balls than I did, because I heard myself say

"I've already told you my name, what more do you need?"

He didn't move, but his eyes kept studying me, assessing me.

"Not much in a name."

I sighed.

And decided to change the subject.

"I hear you are the best of the best. Legendary."

This got me an almost-shrug, if I hadn't read about him so much, I would have missed it.

The beeper on his belt chirped and he shifted his eyes away from me. I withheld a sigh of relief with some force. It didn't look like I could hold my end of a conversation with him for much longer.

"I have to go." He said after a glance to the readout on the pager, and within seconds, he was in the driver's seat and gone.

Now I did let out the air in a _whoosh_, and I was not surprised to realize I was sweating.

'Right, then' I decided, willing my feet to move.

I needed to become a bounty hunter, and I had decided I was going to start from the outside.

I knew what I needed, I just didn't know where to find it.

I drove around some, completely unfamiliar with the area, until I found a strip mall that looked promising.

First on my list was my 'combat outfit', and thanks to my avid reading, I had a clear picture in my head.

I pulled into the parking lot of an army surplus store and headed out.

Black seemed to be the obvious choice, but I didn't really want to look like a Ranger wannabe.

I was lucky to find boots in my size, but then I decided on gray cargo pants and a gray utility belt.

Lucky for me, there was a gun store right next door.

I have never even held a gun, but I figured I had seen them handled in enough movies to have the right idea.

Before I knew it, I had purchased pepper spray, a big-ass maglite, and a semi-automatic gun.

I had picked the gun because it looked like something I could hold, although I had no intention of using it.

The clerk asked to see my driver's license, but didn't take down any information. I had no idea what the gun laws were in New Jersey, I only knew there was no legal way to carry a gun in Massachusetts.

At the risk of exposing myself, I asked if I needed to register the gun, and was told I had to get the permit first, then return to actually purchase it.

OK, that made sense.

Well, as much sense as any of it did at this point.

He wasn't going to trust me because of my innocent green eyes alone.

It surprised me that my credit card went through, but I figured I hadn't maxed it out as much as I had feared and managed to stay calm.

Weapons were frellin' expensive!

I had bagged my legal purchases, got back into the car and threaded myself back into traffic.

Not only was I hungry, I needed a place to change!

I turned into the first McDonald's I came upon, the irony not lost on me, and headed straight for the restrooms.

When I had stripped down to my underwear, I realized I hadn't gotten a matching t-shirt, so the outfit only looked dorky, not bounty hunter-y.

I was going to address it after food, I decided, and made a beeline for the counter.


	3. Chapter 3

OK, here is the third chapter of my first Stephanie Plum fanfic, I don't even know if anyone will read it, I'm just typing along…and I appreciate all feedback, please be gentle.

Spoilers: If you hadn't read the books, you wouldn't be here, but you won't be spoiled either way

Rating: PG13 for language, it's adult language

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters.

Out Of my Mind

Chapter 3

My brain always works better on a full stomach, so I carried my value meal to a booth in the corner and began chewing.

I was creating a list of things still to do and how to accomplish them.

Clearly, getting a license to carry seemed like the biggest hurdle, so I decided to take it first.

I figured if they declined me, I'd get some more legal paraphernalia and look just as cool.

With my mind made up, I balled my trash into the bag and took off.

The guy at the gun store had given me the street address, and had even written down directions to the police station.

I found the street, but it turned out I didn't need the house number: The Trenton police department was a no-frills brick and mortar block exactly as described.

Some part of me had expected it, but I still marveled at the how and why.

Not only had I never handled a gun, I had never spared the thought of the process involved with owning one.

An officer sat behind a glass plate in the entrance area, and I thought he was as good a place to start as any.

"I'm here to get a gun permit?"

"Second floor, room 212."

Okay, that was easy.

There were few people around, and I found myself looking for 'familiar' faces.

Would I recognize Eddie Gazarra? How about Big Dog?

Why stop there, Morelli must be lurking somewhere, right?

I wished I had Jess by my side to share the experience, and so I wouldn't look like a big dope grinning from ear to ear.

I took a deep breath before I knocked on the door marked 212 and entered.

Three steps into the room was a counter, and behind it were two desks and a sea of filing cabinets.

A uniformed officer stood behind the counter and looked up from his paperwork as I approached.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to get a gun permit." – or whatever you called it, I amended in my head.

The officer looked like this was an every day occurrence, dug behind the counter and produced a form.

"I will need your driver's license and you will need to fill this out" he instructed, handing me the piece of paper.

Policemen and everything to do with them always gave me the creeps. I felt like Lula, even though I had no criminal background whatsoever, they just made me nervous.

I took out my pen and started to fill out the form. Since I didn't know what was going to be checked where, I decided to go with the truth and the information on my license, and handed it in a few minutes later.

It occurred to me that the officer hadn't cracked a smile, but then I rationalized that he wasn't exactly in the customer service industry and just waited.

He went over the information, tapped a few things into his computer, and I heard the printer whirr.

He handed me a cardboard paper the size of a car registration and pointed to the dotted line at the bottom.

"Sign here. That will be five bucks."

Clearly, my story was trying to make it easy for me, but I wasn't going to argue.

I signed, handed over the money and pocketed my permit.

I was a legal gun owner, at least in my dream!

Retracing my earlier route, I parked in front of the gun store, went inside and proudly presented my certificate.

I had realized I also needed handcuffs, and I congratulated myself on remembering it before I had attempted my first capture, so I added them to my treasures.

Following the advice of gun guy, I also got a box of bullets, merely to not look suspicious.

I was still expecting to wake up at any moment, but I was going to run with it as long as it lasted.

By now, I was on a four-lane highway, chain stores, fast food franchises and car dealership on my left and right.

I pulled into the first T.J. Maxx I noticed and parked.

Now that I had decided to stay, I not only needed the finishing touch for my "uniform", I also needed all essentials.

It turned out I hadn't needed the army surplus store as much as I thought, I was able to find 2 pairs of gray cargo pants in the clearance department.

I added a slew of V-neck t-shirts, a rain jacket, socks and underwear, as well as everything else I imagined I could need.

As an after-thought, I grabbed a large duffle bag from a display to be able to carry all my new clothes in something other than plastic bags.

I got back into my car and sighed with a sense of accomplishment.

Then I giggled uncontrollably as the afternoon's events replayed before me.

Right, a place to stay was next on my list.

I remembered passing a few roadside motels and figured they were the way to go.

Since I didn't remember any of the names from the books, I just chose the least-seedy looking motel and pulled up to the office.

I had half expected to be asked to pay by the hour, but the clerk just took my credit card, made an imprint and handed me a key to unit 13.

My lucky number! I was congratulating myself on how well I had fleshed out the details as I got back into the car to drive over to my room.

Once in my new accommodations, I spread my purchases out on the bed, dressed in gray and clipped my arsenal onto the utility belt.

It worked, I was already feeling more bad-ass.

At some point, I would have to frequent a drug store if I was going to stay overnight, but that could wait for now.

My purse held all the essentials I could ever need, it was a thing.

I pulled my dark blond hair back into a ponytail and applied some make-up, more to feel secure than to look pretty.

When I was done, I checked myself in the full-length door mirror and was mightily impressed with myself.

I didn't resemble Ranger (or Joyce Barnhardt, as my inner fangirl quickly added) but I looked like I meant business.

At some point, I would need to call Jessica to let her know I was all right, but I figured I had until much later, she wouldn't worry until after her class.

Instead, I settled on the bed on my spartan, but clean room and studied the files Connie had given me.

The first file contained all the necessary information for a guy called Steve Morino, who had apparently failed to appear for a court date after being caught shoplifting dirty magazines at a 7-11.

He was skipping out on a $700 bond, which seemed pretty low to me.

I couldn't imagine shoplifting being a crime punishable by jail time, but what did I know.

I was just glad the file didn't mention anything about Steve possessing any weapons, and he read like an ordinary guy.

It seemed like a good place to start, how hard could it be?

I realized I was thinking along the same lines as Stephanie on her first case and that made me smile.

By the time I had located his home address on the map and was in my car to find it, I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

I took some wrong turns and had a hard time dealing with Jersey drivers and their tempers, but an hour later, I parked in front of a brick apartment building with parking in front and no memorable features around it.

My outfit added to my confidence, I felt like I was wearing a uniform that made me look cool.

My coolness factor may have taken a blow when I tripped on my second step, but a quick look around didn't see anyone that may have witnessed my mishap.

I located apartment 25, took the steps to the second floor and rapped on the door with some authority.

No need to sound like the Avon lady, I figured.

There was no answer, even to my third knock.

Now I chewed on my lip.

In theory, I guess I should check if Stevie was home and then break down the door, I reasoned. But if he was home, he would have heard me knock and decided against opening the door.

I inspected the door more closely and realized there were scratch marks around the lock, it looked tempered with.

On an instinct, I turned the knob and held my breath as it actually turned and the door opened.

I took a step inside and yelled a stupid "Helloooo?" into the apartment.

The entrance door opened into a combination living/dining room, with the open kitchen off to the left.

Either Steve was not much of a housekeeper or a hurricane had visited the place, it looked like a war zone.

An uneasy feeling began creeping into my stomach, but I blamed it on the excitement and pressed forward.

There were 3 closed doors in the apartment.

Bedroom, bath and closet, I imagined, but there was no way to know.

"Mr. Morino? I'm Lindsay Taylor with Plum's Bail Bonds?"

My voice echoed in the room.

Still no answer though.

I guessed it was possible Steve just wasn't home and his placed had been broken into, but it didn't look like there was much to steal in the first place.

It was a typical, lower middle class bachelor pad.

I eenie-meenie-mooed my way to the first door, opened it, and let out a relieved sigh when it was just a closet. Not much in it, or rather no much left on the shelves, it looked like it had been searched through.

On to door number 2.

I mentally cracked my knuckles as I turned the door knob and pushed.

And then I gagged.

I don't know what kind of evil tricks my mind was playing with this fantasy, but I was planning on seeing a shrink when I woke up.

A man's body was halfway in, halfway out of the tub, face up, his unseeing eyes towards the ceiling.

A dead guy!

I just froze.

Unlike Stephanie, I had never seen a dead person outside the movies or the TV, so I had no preparation.

It was my movie experience that had classified the guy as dead in the first place, although the pool of blood on the floor was a dead giveaway.

I must have stepped backwards because I collapsed onto the couch in the living room and fought hard against my instinct to throw up.

Internalizing my Stephanie Plum persona, I put my head between my knees and forced myself to take deep breaths.

After what seemed like an eternity, the nausea subsided.

That unfortunately left me with the need to deal with the more pressing situation of the dead guy in the bathtub.

My first instinct was to turn tail and run, all the way back to Boston if I had to.

This was no longer fun and games, I didn't like the way this was going and I was going to end it here and now.

I took a steadying breath and pinched myself in the arm.

It hurt, but I was still slumped on the dirty dead guy's couch when I opened my eyes.

"Call the police!" my sane voice said in my head.

"And say what? That I'm a greenhorn from Boston who found a dead guy?" my panicked voice countered.

I was pretty sure the dead guy was Steve Morino, at least he resembled the picture in the file to some extend. Not that I was going to take a closer look to confirm.

If I had been Stephanie, I would have had a number of people to call at my disposal, but Sandra didn't know anyone. Neither did Lindsay.

I knew the reasonable thing to do would be to call 911, but instead, I fished the scrap of paper out of my wallet in my cargo pants. I had Joe Morelli's number.

And he was working homicide. This looked like a homicide sitch to me.

I grabbed my cell phone and punched in the number before the voice of reason in my head was able to gain too much power and held my breath while the line rang.

"Yeah?"

It was the voice I recognized from the voicemail box.

"Joe Morelli?" I managed.

"Who's this?"

I thought he sounded annoyed, but that didn't do the sexiness in his voice any harm. I imagined what it would be like to have the voice read the phone book to me and liked the idea.

Earth to Sandra! Or Lindsay, but think quickly!

"Are…are you Joe Morelli?"

Now I sounded like a frightened girl.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"D…do you work in homicide?"

At this point, I would have hung up on myself if I had been on the other end, I sounded like a lunatic.

Instead, the voice said "I do. What is your name?"

Holy Ted! It was Joe Morelli the cop, the fantasy of many lonely nights of every other Plum fanatic!

That realization did nothing to calm my nerves, so I took another deep breath and willed myself to stop stuttering.

"I think I have discovered a murder victim."

There, that sounded somewhat saner. Marginally so, but it was progress.

"Who is this?" the voice demanded again.

I panicked and hung up. Clearly, the bad-ass bounty hunter in charge when I entered the apartment had left the building.

I almost jumped out of my skin when my phone hummed in my hand.

Shit! I had forgotten about caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Don't hang up!"

It was Joe. At least he seemed to take me seriously, which was more than I could say for myself.

"Where are you?" He demanded.

I took a deep breath and recited the address.

"I am on the second floor in apartment 25, and I think the guy that lives here has been murdered."

There, I said it.

"And who are you, what are you doing there?"

Jeez, didn't he realize I was about to pass out after divulging the information so far?

"I'm S…Lindsay Taylor, Mr. Morino is in failure of his bond agreement and I have authorization to take him in."

Even I didn't understand everything I had just said, but Joe seemed satisfied.

"Stay where you are. I will be there in a few. Don't touch anything!"

And he disconnected.

"Well, that went well." I said out loud and didn't quite recognize my own voice.

Now that the first wave of panic subsided, I felt scared.

I wanted to wake up, I wanted to be in Jess' apartment, or at home, anywhere but here.

Alternatively, I needed a drink, but I had been told not to touch anything, and I wasn't going to disobey. I just remained seated, trying to calm myself, while I counted the seconds and hummed "Mna, mna, mna" under my breath to focus on something other than the dead guy in the bathtub and the image of me in a jail cell.


	4. Chapter 4

This has developed a life of its own. If you're reading this, you must have at least been curious enough to read on, and I'm already grateful. Thank you for your feedback so far, you guys are the best!

Spoilers: If you hadn't read the books, you wouldn't be here, but you won't be spoiled either way, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG13 for language, it's adult language

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters.

Out Of my Mind

Chapter 4

A part of me wanted to know why I was panicking, since I had long since decided I was in a dream or hallucination or some such. Another, unfortunately bigger, part of me didn't like the reality of it all and wanted to get out, no matter how.

I was Sandra Cline, systems administrator and all-around geek and fangirl, not Lindsay Taylor, wannabe bounty hunter from Boston.

This game was no longer entertaining, it was frightening.

And I was going to check myself straight into McLean hospital when I woke up and got home.

A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts.

I swiveled my head to the form emerging in the door frame: A tall, casually dressed, drool-inducing man stood in the door, gun in hand, frowned look on his face.

His dark hair looked like it needed a cut, his body didn't look like he had an ounce of fat on him, and had I walked into him in any other situation I might have fainted and forgotten my name. Or the other way around.

If this wasn't Joe Morelli, I didn't care, because whoever he was, I was going to declare me his.

"You Lindsay Taylor?" He asked in this sexy voice of his, and he lowered his gun when I nodded.

I didn't quite trust my voice to speak yet.

"I'm Joe Morelli." Again, a nod from me.

And then I saw a finger pointing towards the bathroom, it took me a moment to realize it was mine.

Joe pushed the bathroom door open a bit with the barrel of his gun.

"Shit!"

He exclaimed. Thrice, I think.

He must have thought I was a prankster until then.

I saw him make a phone call on his cell phone and then he turned towards me.

Clearly, he wasn't impressed by my badass outfit, because he holstered his gun and squatted down in front to me to be to be at eye level.

His brown eyes bored into mine and I saw his lips move, but I didn't hear anything.

"Lindsay!" he exclaimed, and that got my attention.

Right, I was Lindsay. I had the authorization to capture in my pocket and had every right to be here, more or less.

"I'm Lindsay Taylor, bond enforcement agent for Vincent Plum's Bail Bonding agency." It occurred to me that I sounded like a captured soldier, reciting rank and number, but it was all I could manage. I still didn't meet Joe's stare when I continued.

"The door was open when I got here and I found the body as is, I didn't go near him." Good going, Sandra, defend yourself before being accused. Not suspicious at all.

Joe nodded and let out an exasperated sigh.

"And do you have any idea who he is?" He moved his head slightly in the direction of the bathroom, lest I forget where the dead guy was.

"St..Steve…" I almost hiccupped, but Morelli cut me off.

"Yeah, Steve Morino. I mean, do you know who he is?"

This question didn't compute. What else was there to answer but a name?

Granted, I hadn't gotten all of my brain back into functioning order yet, but I wasn't about to admit that.

I just shook my head.

Another sigh from Joe, but at least he appeared temporarily satisfied, because he got up and looked around.

"Jeeeez…did you do this?" it sounded more like a rhetorical question, I decided, so I didn't answer. Without looking up, I knew he was referring to the mess around us.

Now I could hear sirens in the distance.

"I called the team. It looks like the crime scene is pretty much intact."

The tone of his voice had changed and I looked up to find he had put on an unreadable face. The cop face I had been reading about.

He must have misunderstood my sudden reaction because he felt the need to add "You didn't touch anything, did you?"

I thought he looked a tad relieved when I answered no, but that could have been me.

Joe stepped out as the sirens grew close, and for a moment, I contemplated flight. I could just march myself out of here and walk away.

I liked that thought, but unfortunately, my body refused to cooperate.

Instead, my mind kept bringing up the picture of the dead guy in the bathtub.

Then it occurred to me that Vinnie would still get his money back even though Steve was dead, and then I was disgusted with myself for thinking along those lines.

But at least I had another emotion to focus on.

The next hour or so was more of a blur. It was growing dark outside and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was watching a TV show. CSI maybe. There were people around me hustling about, taking pictures, dusting surfaces, murmuring to each other.

Maybe they weren't murmuring, but I didn't understand what they were saying.

Nobody paid much attention to me one way or the other, and when I realized I could feel my legs again, I got up.

"Stay!"

Joe's voice carried to me, and at first I wasn't sure whether he was talking to a dog, or me, but then he touched my arm and shook me slightly.

I think "Whaa?" describes the sound that came out of my mouth best, real sophisticated.

"I still need your statement. If you have plans for the evening, you may want to cancel them, because we'll be a while."

Joe Morelli was talking to me, holding my arm.

What he said even made some sort of sense, in a 'seen this in countless cop shows' sort of way.

I must not have looked like it made sense though, because Joe turned halfway around, addressed one of the uniforms close by, and then nudged me towards the exit.

I followed his lead on jelly legs, still not quite with the program.

We stepped out of the apartment building and I took a deep breath of fresh air to clear my head.

I wasn't sure where we were going until Joe opened a passenger door of a car and gently pushed me inside.

"Let's get some coffee." He said as if it was the most natural thing to do and started the car.

"Coffee is good." I replied, still in my genius conversation mode.

I tried real hard to realize that I was in a car with one of the two men in my threesome fantasy, and that I should picture him naked while I had the chance, but the image wouldn't fine-tune.

For lack of a better word, I was numb.

After a few turns, he parked in front of a dinner and cut the engine.

Up until then, I didn't know if he had meant coffee at the station, so I was relieved to discover I wasn't going to have to face the Spanish inquisition surrounded by cops a sterile investigation room that would probably make me confess to anything I could come up with.

I think Joe looked alarmed when I opened the door and got out on my own, but he relaxed when I just closed the door and stood still.

"Just a friendly conversation over coffee. Come on." He coaxed as he approached the diner, no longer leading me, but not letting me out of his sight.

I didn't think he had made up his mind what to think of me yet. He was in good company, I didn't know either.

The diner was one of those 24-hour places, with red formica-and-chrome tabletops and matching red pleather benches in booths.

We took our seats and ordered coffee, since it didn't look like a place that could serve cappuccino, I ordered plenty of milk with mine.

Joe produced a small steno pad and pen and began scribbling.

Huh, I thought, this was new. I didn't remember ever reading about Joe writing anything down at a crime scene, but then I realized I had never read about him talking to anyone but Stephanie, so I was willing to let it pass.

"Where're you from, Lindsay Taylor?" He began.

I was really proud of myself that I only hesitated a moment before I realized he was addressing me, and I told him I was from Boston.

That didn't seem to be important information, because he didn't write it down.

He may have been contemplating his next question as his eyes looked up from the notepad into mine, and I all but melted.

So far, everything I had read about my two alpha-males was accurate. Even better, I decided.

I conjured up the image of Ranger leaning against his car and imagined him next to Joe across from me.

No wonder Stephanie was torn, who could decide between hotness and sex in blue jeans?

Sipping my coffee relaxed me enough to answer Joe's questions. The environment was harmless enough, and I really didn't have anything to hide.

And I really didn't know anything.

I had to ask Joe to wait to see my authorization to capture, since it was in my purse on my back seat, but that didn't seem to concern him.

Finally, I brought up the courage to ask him a question of my own, one that had been nagging me.

"So who was he? I can't imagine all the hubbub over an unemployed shoplifter."

Joe's eyes narrowed slightly, probably trying to decide if I was trustworthy, really as naïve as I was displaying, or merely prodding for information.

He took a sip of his coffee without taking his eyes off me.

"An informant, my informant." He said without emotion, still studying me.

"On a case you're working on?" I asked, more to have something to say than out of need to know. Did I mention my mouth sometimes operates independently from my brain?

My question brought back the unreadable face as he nodded.

"My only one." He added on a sigh.

Then the moment was gone, he dropped money on the table and motioned for me to stand.

"I'm going to drop you off at your house, you can pick up your car tomorrow. For tonight, I'd prefer you unable to leave the area."

For a moment, I wondered if I could pull off a really helpless look and persuade him to stay and protect me, but then I realized he had made the statement not out of concern for me, but because he didn't trust me.

Good going.

I wasn't looking forward to hearing the Miranda speech for the first time in real life, so I decided to nod and keep my mouth shut.


	5. Chapter 5

Weeee, the fifth chapter is here. I hope you like it. And thank you so much for your encouraging feedback, I really appreciate it.

Spoilers: If you hadn't read the books, you wouldn't be here, but you won't be spoiled either way, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG13 for language, it's adult language

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters.

Out Of my Mind

Chapter 5

I woke up when a ray of sunshine tickled my nose and I panicked when I realized the radio wasn't blasting by way of my alarm clock so I must have overslept.

But then I remembered I was on vacation, in New York, visiting my friend Jessica who lives in a…typical low budget motel room with burgundy peeling wallpaper?

I sat up straight and looked around when it came back to me. Trenton, Vinnie, Ranger and Joe Morelli.

Holy Ted!

I was still in the motel room I fell asleep in last night.

Now ordinarily, that was to be expected, of course, but I had been convinced I'd wake up being me again.

After leaving the diner, Joe had driven us back to the apartment complex, and I had feared I'd have to go back into the doomed apartment, but Joe just asked me to point him to my parked car.

I had gotten out, aware that he had noticed my New York plates and almost certain he was committing the number to memory that instant, fished out my bag from the back seat and sat back down next to him.

Along with my authorization to capture, I had handed him my gun permit, although he hadn't mentioned it. He raised an eyebrow at this, but then nodded.

It only took about 20 minutes to get back to my motel, unlike me, he knew the way.

Joe had smiled when I had pointed out my unit.

"Guess 13 isn't all that lucky for you, huh?"

I liked what the smile did to his face, it lit it up.

"Guess not." Was all I could manage in return.

He had stopped the car but didn't kill the engine and I had figured I was off the hook for the time being.

He had told me to get some rest and that he would be by in the morning.

For half the night, I lay in bed awake, going through all my emotions.

Sometimes giggling uncontrollably, sometimes sobbing in horror, sometimes dreamy eyed and sighing. At any rate, it was too tumultuous to fall asleep.

And yet, at some point I must have dozed off since it was now bright sunshine outside and the sheets were tangled around me.

The radio clock on the nightstand told me it was 8:25, and the flow of traffic on the nearby highway sounded like it, too.

I freed myself from the mess I had made of the bed linens and stumbled over to the bathroom.

Early in the morning, I'm not the most coordinated person.

I had never gotten around to CVS the night before, but the motel provided soap and tiny shampoo bottles, so my essential needs were met when I stood under the shower until my brain was put in gear.

Still, I made a mental note to hit a drug store later that day, I didn't want to be caught with my pants down and hairy legs.

Then it occurred to me that I could be forced to lower my pants in prison as well, but I reasoned it wouldn't hurt if my legs were shaved on that occasion as well.

20 minutes later, I had just put the finishing touches on my make-up, a knock on the door made me jump.

Technically, I knew who it was since no one else knew where I was staying, but that did nothing to calm me down.

I was going to ask who it was, really, but then I forgot and just opened the door, like I would at home.

Sure enough, there was Joe Morelli. He looked freshly showered and shaved and good enough to eat. He was holding a bag and a tray with Dunkin' Donuts cups and I nearly drooled.

A look of mild surprise flashed across his face as he stepped in.

"Don't you ever check before you open the door?"

"I knew who it was." Sometimes, I amaze myself with my deadpan comments. I thought I had sounded really bounty hunter-y and wise.

I don't know if it impressed Joe, he just shrugged and placed his load on the small table.

"Brought you some coffee."

Maybe I was just exhausted or overwhelmed or whatever, but at that moment, I could have hugged him out of gratitude, I could have sworn bringing me coffee was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. I managed to keep my outburst in check and kept it to a smiled "Thank you."

Holding on to the coffee cup had the added advantage of giving my fidgeting hands something to do. I was too nervous to eat, but I was betting the bag contained Boston Cream donuts.

I was about to ask about the bag, when Joe took the seat across from me and unfolded a manila enveloped he had had in the back pocket of his jeans.

"I need to see your gun again. We got the preliminary ballistic and autopsy reports and I have to check if your gun is a caliber match."

"Am I a suspect?" I almost squeaked, unable to control my voice. A moment ago, I had tried to imagine Joe in my bed, now the image of me in handcuffs wouldn't go away, and not in a kinky sex kind of way.

Joe frowned.

"Not really, but then again, I need to rule you out. I still don't know what you were doing there, why you called me and who you are, but so far I can't find anything wrong with what you did or said either."

If he was trying to calm me down, it wasn't working. I was trying to concentrate on the sexy tone of his voice rather than on what he was saying and it was almost working.

"And I believe this is for you." He took a small piece of paper out of the envelope and handed it over. It took a minute for me to realize what I was looking at.

'Receipt of Body', it read. Right! Me, bounty hunter. Joe, cop. Body receipt to collect share of bounty. Joe had taken the time to bring me the body receipt for Steve Moreno. Weird.

"Here's what we're going to do," he tried again, putting his cup down on the table between us.

"We're going to enjoy our breakfast and meanwhile, you're going to share your entire day with me, starting in Steve's parking lot and how you got there."

He got up and took my utility belt of the night stand where I had dropped it the night before, took out the gun and examined it. Since my gun had never been fired, I wasn't too nervous at that part. Up until then, I hadn't even known the victim had been shot.

"Then I'm going to take you to your car and you're free to go."

I liked his plan. It involved being back on the road to safety in a matter of hours.

Unfortunately, Joe was bound to change his plan if I didn't choose my words carefully.

Somehow, I didn't think "I was going to stake out fictional landmarks and characters from a book I love" wouldn't sound too convincing. Then again, if I was going to make up a background for Lindsay Taylor, I could talk myself into a dead end.

Instead of replying one way or the other, I just nodded.

He asked me some of the same questions we had gone over the night before. Had I known the victim, had I touched him, had I seen anyone leaving the apartment and such. I felt safe, since I didn't have to make anything up and had nothing to hide. Joe seemed to like that my answers matched what I had said before, but I may have imagined that. Sometimes he had to repeat a question because I had been lost in his voice and his moving mouth.

While he was talking and scribbling and gesturing, he took time outs to eat his donuts, which turned out to be Boston creams. The task of swallowing solids seemed too hard to accomplished, so I had declined my share of the pastries.

I still thought it was the nicest thing for him to bring breakfast and I was trying to figure out how much to read into it, when he got up, stuffed the empty donut bag into his empty cup and threw everything into the waste basket.

I took that as my cue, and I was glad I had been able to shower and get ready beforehand, it would have been too much to ask to be naked in the next room.

We drove back in silence and I was trying to come up with a safe topic, around the corner from our destination, when Joe cursed under his breath.

I followed his line of sight and discovered a black, shiny new Explorer parked next to my Beetle, dwarfing it.

Lindsay Taylor would have no frame of reference what the car meant, but Sandra Cline could only come up with one explanation. It looked like RangeMan had discovered the crime scene.

Or had they discovered my car?

The thought of having Ranger and his merry men out there looking for me made butterflies take off in my stomach. Granted, I couldn't come up with a reason they would be looking for me, or my car for that matter, but I wasn't going to let that get in the way of my giddiness.

Joe pulled on the other side of my car and handed me his card. I made a vow right then and there that I was going to have it bronzed, but I managed to remain neutral.

"If anything comes to mind, I want you to call me. If anyone" and he glanced to his left, through my car at the Explorer, "approaches you regarding this, I want to know about it. I don't have to remind you that you shouldn't talk to anyone about this, do I?"

I gave him a look that I hope asked who he thought he was talking to and said "No."

Then I shouldered my purse, which really didn't go with my cargo pants, combat boots and low-neck shirt but had to be brought out of necessity when I had been too flustered to get my utility belt on in front of Joe, and grabbed the door handle.

"Be careful." Joe advised as he put a hand on my forearm and our eyes caught.

"I'll try." I croaked out and left the car.

I had barely slammed the door shut when he took off, leaving me standing looking like the dork I felt like.

For lack of a better thing to do, I unlocked the Beetle's passenger door and threw in my bag.

I tried to watch the Explorer out of the corner of my eye, but I wasn't really trained in looking without looking and besides, all its windows were tinted dark. One wouldn't know if one was being watched back.

Sure enough, as I had walked around my car and reached for the door handle, I heard the Explorer's door open and someone step out.

"Ms Taylor?"

It was Ranger. Shit! My heart rate hadn't returned to normal after being close to Joe for hours, now I was sure to have a stroke.

"Just Lin." I managed to say, sounding quite normal to my own ears, as I turned around and smiled, determined not to meet his eyes.

Ranger shut the SUV's door and closed the short distance between us.

My black cat, Riley, had a similar way of crossing a room. All predator.

"Lin, then." He stated, emotionless, as he came to a stop about two feet from me.

Why had Joe left in such a hurry? Were they working together or had I interpreted the cursing correctly and Joe had been not at all happy to see Ranger's car?

I realized I was getting all flustered before Ranger had even started talking, just by driving myself crazy, and I willed my thoughts to go blank and count to 10.

Deciding a good offense was the best defense, I squared my shoulders and looked up at Ranger, carefully avoiding his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Good, a neutral question. It didn't imply that I thought he was there for me, it didn't imply that there was anything going on inside the house, it could have been a question anywhere.

I wished I had taken the time to put on my belt, the weight of the semi-automatic against my thigh would have surely boosted my ego.

"I came looking for you." Ranger stated, studying me.

I had had a shower and my first coffee, I was as ready as I was going to get. Two can play this game, I decided.

"You found me. How can I help you?"

Somewhere in my head, a fangirl screamed, wicked proud of me.

I hoped my outfit helped me look at least half as cool as I was hoping to pull off.


	6. Chapter 6

OK, if you're still reading, thank you. I hope you're enjoying the ride!

Spoilers: If you hadn't read the books, you wouldn't be here, but you won't be spoiled either way, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG13 for language, it's adult language

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters.

Out Of my Mind

Chapter 6

I was trying to concentrate on my breathing, while hoping I wasn't sweating too profusely or displaying any other telltale sign of the stress I was feeling.

So, no, it wasn't the first time a handsome man had me in a state, but it was only the second time I felt close to a heart attack. What, did Ranger and Joe take the same course somewhere "Drive women crazy 101"?

That thought made me want to giggle and I quickly bit my lip to prevent the inappropriate reaction.

"I understand you were the one who found the body?" Ranger's question was more of a statement.

"One of my skips." I confirmed while studying my shoes intensively. Although I knew looking up and into Ranger's eyes would seem a lot more convincing, I didn't have the guts. I had seen the fire in them, and I was afraid to get burned.

For lack of anything better to do, I took out my body receipt and showed it to Ranger.

This got a short sort-of laugh from him. At least he found me amusing.

"What do need from me?" I felt compelled to ask, since he had revealed he was there to see me.

I was hoping the answer would be somewhere in the 'take your clothes off and make me moan your name' vicinity, but didn't put too much stock into it.

"Where you after Moreno for any other reason than the $70 recovery fee?" He made it sound like $70 was more of an insult than money.

Ooh, I finally felt like I knew where he was going!

"You mean, like any information he withheld from the cops but would tell to me?"

Ranger's eyes narrowed slightly and he took yet another step towards me, but he was perfectly calm when he replied: "Yeah, something like that."

OK, so I was enjoying his presence. And some weird part of me wanted to come up with something clever to keep him around. What would I have to say for him to touch me, maybe put his hand on my arm like Joe had? Wouldn't Ranger want me to be careful as well?

One might have argued the seriousness of the moment was lost on me, but I blamed it on the hormones.

I decided on an old trick of mine, telling the truth while hinting at more.

"No, just the money. Getting my feet wet in Trenton, you know?"

Hopefully, I had said it with the right emphasis, so not even my own mother would have believed me, although it was the truth.

I was unable to read Ranger's emotion, but I finally got my touch, he poked me slightly in the chest with his index finger to underline his words.

"You might want to watch out where you stick your nose or you may get a lot more than your feet wet."

Great, could he vague that up for me? What the hell did that mean? I tried to get my mind out of the gutter and wondered if I could ask him for more explanation without losing face.

So I stayed with the truth.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." There, see? Just put it in the right intonation and I could hold my own in a conversation with Ranger! Maybe now I should just leave to be the one who ends it! Ha!

I was turned halfway when I felt Ranger's hand on my elbow, turning me back towards him. Maybe I could fake a stumble and have him catch me, I wondered, until I caught the look in his eyes. It was stone cold.

We were so close now, our noses almost touched, and I for one did not breathe.

"You tell the Senor that I can wait. He slips up one more time and it will be his last mistake. We don't want his kind here!"

"The wannana who?" Oh, I could be so smooth when I put my mind to it. Too bad I didn't have a mind to put to it.

Still, it was hard to miss that Ranger thought I was something I wasn't, and obviously someone he didn't like, working for another whom he liked even less.

Where had he gotten that idea from and what could I do to set the record straight?

I was still trying to come up with something when he abruptly turned and left me standing by my car.

What's with the disappearing acts? Not even a wave or something, let alone 'Good Bye'.

Yeah, OK, I couldn't see Ranger giving a finger wave, but in general. Kinda rude.

So I like to ponder irrelevant questions when I'm confused, sue me. I needed to occupy my mind if I wanted to keep from running down the street screaming.

I was really hoping no one was watching from a window somewhere because I had arrived with Joe, who had driven off without a word, had then been cornered by Ranger who had left me standing in his dust.

For lack of anything better to do, I sat in my car.

I only knew one thing for sure, and that was that, somewhere recently, I had misplaced my script. I didn't know how to talk to Joe and I had no idea what Ranger was talking about.

Also, I had noticed I had zero success in getting either of them to take his clothes off. So really, I felt like a loser.

Wait a minute! I was a loser, but I was a loser with $70! I had my body receipt, didn't I? Yeah, OK, so a guy was dead, but it wasn't like I had killed him or anything. There was no moral reason not to collect my fee!

And then I would go spend the money on something irresponsible, like shoes!

My mind made up, I checked my map to find the shortest way back to Vinnie's office and started the car.

Rush hour was over, so I made it through to the office with minimal swearing.

I even found a parking spot fairly close to the entrance, remembered to leave my bulky purse in the car and marched into the office with an air of confidence I didn't feel.

Connie looked up from what she was doing, but other than that, the office was empty.

Should I ask for Stephanie? Or how about Lula? In all honesty, I didn't know how much more I could take, and I had always been more of a loner. I was going to try to keep truckin' the way I had started.

"Got a body receipt for you. Moreno." And I placed the piece of paper on her desk.

"He is dead. It doesn't count!" Vinnie yelled through his closed door.

"Damn him and his damned bugs!" Connie groaned and started looking under pencil holders and her telephone for listening devices.

"The court pays you back dead or alive." I yelled back.

"Hmpfh!" was the answer.

Connie had located the tiny bug and smashed it under her heel.

Then she dug up a checkbook from one of the drawers and started writing me a check.

She handed it to me with a polite smile.

"That was quick."

"I got lucky." I felt the need to say. As much as you can count finding a dead guy in his bathtub lucky.

"You get any new ones in?"

Before Connie got to answer, she looked past me to the door, and I figured that was what she looked like when Ranger or Brad Pitt approached the door. My money was on Ranger, since my fantasies never go as far as Brad Pitt for some reason. Sure enough, as I glanced over my shoulder, Ranger was already closing in, eyes fixed on me.

The situation was so familiar that I half-expected him to greet me with "Babe."

'Cause that would have been too cool.

He didn't greet me with anything, although it was possible I had missed an almost imperceptible nod because I was busy trying to look cool.

I was under the impression that I looked good. For lack of self confidence, I had put all my effort into my appearance. So if Ranger didn't like what he saw, I was out of luck because it was as good as I was going to get.

Unfortunately, I had already fired off my cool greeting at our earlier meeting, so now I just uttered the lame "Are you following me?"

Yes, a line, but it was getting really hard to think straight.

Ranger was simply too hot.

I found it very difficult to think about anything not rated NC17.

"No, I was waiting for you outside."

'Oh. Well. Shit.' Was all I could think. Nothing remotely resembling a response was forming in my mind.

I don't know why, but the harder I try to come up with something to say, the blanker my mind gets, it's been happening for as long as I can remember.

Connie was busying herself, shuffling file folders. I believed she was as flustered as I was.

For lack of anything intelligent to say rather than out of rudeness, I turned my attention back to her and repeated my question about new skips.

It seemed like she hadn't found her voice yet either, since she wordlessly handed me a couple of folders.

I couldn't blame her, Ranger would put any hot-blooded woman into a state, regardless of age or marital status.

I took the folders and got an idea.

Slowly turning to face Ranger all the way, I finally gathered up the courage to meet his eyes.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked, inclining my head towards the door as in, 'outside, without anyone eavesdropping'.

That time, I did see his head move about a quarter of an inch (I interpreted it as a nod), moments before he turned around and left the office.

"No time like the present." I said to Connie, hoping for an encouraging smile or maybe even pep talk.

But Connie had her eyes firmly fixed on Ranger's backside and was ignoring me.

So I gave myself a little inner pep talk, took a few deep breaths and followed him.

He was standing 2 steps to the right of the front door, and his face was expressionless.

I jumped right in.

"Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"

His left eyebrow definitely moved that time, amazingly expressing "Excuse me?" as if he had said it out loud.

"I like to sit while I talk."

As stupid as it sounded, it was true.

Ranger didn't seem to think it was amusing, but he almost-nodded towards the curb behind me.

"My car has seats."

Oh, now he was a comedian.

I turned to see what he was focusing on and spotted the Explorer parked three spots down. I also saw what looked like three people in the driver's seat.

"Looks like Tank if filling up most of them."

Too late, I remembered that I didn't know Tank. And I couldn't even be sure the individual was Tank, but I couldn't come up with a better name if I had tried, the man was sitting and still looked taller than anyone I knew.

"You know my team?" This time, it was a question, but I couldn't sense any surprise in it.

I shrugged.

"As much as anyone not part of RangeMan, I'd figure."

For good measure, I threw in a gesture that was to say 'All in a day's work', or maybe 'Part of my job', or hopefully 'I did my homework on you'.

Technically, I wasn't lying, since everything Janet had ever wanted to share about Ranger and his merry men was in the books, right?

Honestly, I was glad Ranger wasn't alone, because Tank had provided the perfect excuse not to get into the car.

Being alone in a car with Ranger was not something I felt ready for.

"Coffee?" I tried once again.

He let out a short, defeated sigh, turned and walked, away from his car.

I took that as a yes and followed him. He really could use a course in communication.

Sure enough, he stopped a few houses down at a small diner and held the door open for me. I didn't know if he let me enter first out of courtesy or out of the need to be able to watch me, I just enjoyed the moment.

And since I had was now in the diner first, I quickly walked over to a booth in the back and sat down with my back to the wall.

I looked at Ranger expectantly, not quite sure if he would shoo me away because I was sitting in 'his' seat or what.

No reaction.

He just followed and took the seat beside me.

So much for flustering Ranger. For a second, I wished I was a bigger girl and there hadn't been enough room on the bench.

The way we were sitting now was just awkward, I couldn't look at him without craning my neck.

So once again, he won. I excused myself and took off for the bathroom.

In addition to providing a perfectly acceptable pause, it also gave me the chance to check my reflection for mascara smudges and other embarrassing things.

Satisfied with my appearance, I returned to our table and took the seat across from Ranger, but I didn't check his expression for any signs of victory, I was still trying not to grumble.

"So talk." He simply said after we had ordered our coffee.

"I didn't kill Moreno." For some reason, I felt the need to state the obvious, I needed to find out what Ranger thought I had done.

"I know."

God, would it kill him to form sentences with more syllables?

Mostly, I was jealous that I could never come across that cool, that I could never express myself in 5 words or less.

"Then what do you think I did? Who is the Senor?"

My voice was still calm, but my heart had started hammering again.

"Your boss."

"You're wrong."

'Ha, take that!' I thought, still able to look straight into his eyes.

The waitress approached with our order at that moment, so we were both given some time to plan our next move. Probably, I was the only one who needed some time, but still.

One of my weaknesses is that I can't stand uncomfortable silences. No matter how much I am waiting for the other to say something, if it takes more than a minute, I have to jump in.

Ranger just looked at me, a response didn't seem likely.

"I don't work for anybody. And I'm a good girl."

I flinched at that expression, that hadn't come out the way I had intended.

The ghost of a smile appeared, but he still didn't say anything.

"What I meant is," Here we go again, my mouth and its own mind "I didn't kill Moreno or anyone else. I am on your side."

More than he could imagine.

"My side?" His left eyebrow definitely looked raised now, but I was still waiting for a whole sentence from him.

"The good guys, the law, knight in…yadayadayada." Oh, that had been close! I just finished with an all-encompassing gesture and focused on my coffee.

Ranger was silent, maybe to take my statement in.

"Prove it." He finally said, getting up.

He put a few dollar bills on the table and turned to leave.

I mentally squeezed my eyes shut as I reached out and tried to stop him with a hand on his arm. Unfortunately, my hand came to rest right on his biceps and that sensation momentarily wiped all thought from my mind. Hoping I hadn't drooled, I cleared my throat.

"How can I get in touch with you?"

Ooh, I didn't think I had that in me. A perfectly sane question, not 'Do you really go commando?'.

I hoped he wouldn't bring up the fact that I had told him I knew all about him.

Ranger looked down to my hand and I pulled it back as if I had been burned.

To my surprise, he dug into one of his pockets and handed me a card.

Neat.

I now had all the numbers for two of the hottest men I had ever met.

Too bad I didn't have anything to say.

I was really proud I resisted the urge to study the card right there and then, I was even able to meet his gaze, smile and say "Thank you."

Of course, I didn't know if my smile had looked hot, seductive, irresistible or all of the above, but I sure hoped Ranger now had the need to see me again, and soon.

Then he was gone.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and yearned for a shot of Jagermeister, even though it wasn't even noon.


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you so much for your feedback, I appreciate it. This is my first Stephanie Plum fanfic, although she's not really in it. Please forgive me if you'd rather read about Steph, I just want all her men for myself 

Spoilers: If you hadn't read the books, you wouldn't be here, but you won't be spoiled either way, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG13 for language, it's adult language

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters

Out Of my Mind

Chapter 7

Once again, I had been the one left behind. I was starting to get used to it. At least I had remained seated, so I wasn't left standing in the middle of the room like a dork.

I stared at Ranger's untouched mug across from mine.

And now that I was by myself, my surroundings had a chance to get through to me.

I took a quick look around to see if I 'recognized' the diner, but I couldn't remember it being mentioned in the books. As far as I knew, there was no diner a few doors down from Vinnie's office.

It was your regular mom and pop, a dime a dozen, place to grab a cup of coffee or entire greasy meal. And as the food smells from the griddle behind the counter wafted over to me, my stomach grumbled in response. It was almost noon and I hadn't eaten anything yet.

I took the money Ranger had left on the table and carefully put it in one of my pockets. Ranger had touched it, which made it a treasure for me. I wondered if I could get any geekier if I tried, but still left the money in my pocket as I signaled the waitress. Food first, thought later, I reasoned.

I ate every smidgen of food on my plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes and pushed it back with a satisfied smile.

Halfway through my meal, a nagging feeling had materialized and I couldn't put my finger on what was wrong. As I shifted in my seat, I felt my cell phone in my pocket press against my leg and I located the source of the uncomfortable feeling: I had completely forgotten to call Jess the night before!

Then again, she hadn't called me either, and that was equally odd.

I dug up the phone and instantly knew what had happened: The battery had died, somewhen, and since the charger was in my luggage in New York, the phone was now useless to me. I was truly a professional.

My only saving grace was that, unlike everybody else that I knew, Joe's and Ranger's numbers were not in my cell phone's phone book, so I'd still have access to them. Glass half-full kind of scenario.

Now all I needed was a reason to get in touch with them.

I studied the business card Ranger had given me more closely.

It just read 'RANGEMAN' on the front, and a phone number underneath it.

But when I turned it around, there was another, handwritten, number on the back.

This could mean that Ranger had accidentally given me a card he had used as a notepad, or, and I liked the second possibility a lot more, he had given me his personal number.

Joe's card had no handwriting on it, but all his numbers were clearly identified and his cell phone was among them. I was going to make use of it as soon as I had something resembling a reason to call.

Right, time to take stock.

I had a check for $70 that, for lack of a checking account in Lindsay's name I would have to cash at some cash-checking place, I had three or four FTA files and I was seriously rattled by Joe and Ranger.

Maybe I should also consider investigating the murder I had stumbled upon, but I felt rather incompetent to do so. I didn't know anything about the victim other than what the file had given me, and I was sure the police were doing their thing. Okay, so I chickened out, but I was trying to cover it up with valid arguments. I honestly felt even less competent to investigate a murder than I already felt about bounty huntering.

When I stepped out onto the sidewalk, the weather had gotten a little warmer and the Explorer was nowhere in sight.

I spotted a RiteAid across the street and sprinted over. My travel toothbrush was not going to last me much longer, and a girl has to have her priorities straight.

A half hour and three full shopping bags later, I unlocked my car, checking around for anything or anyone familiar.

Still no Stephanie coming out of Vinnie's office, no Lula on her way back from lunch.

Shrugging, I climbed into my car and motored off, a file study session and a bag of Riesen toffees ahead of me.

I didn't get very far.

About a mile from the office, still 20 minutes away from my motel, I had an accident.

That was the neutral way of saying: Out of nowhere, the car next to me hung to its right and crashed into me. I registered the crunch of metal and breaking safety glass, but I was too shocked to think.

Before I knew what was happening, the car rammed into me again, just a flash of blue in my peripheral vision, and I was slammed into a street light.

It seemed like an eternity, but probably only seconds passed before I took a breath.

My heart was still pounding in my ears, but my brain had started a systems check to see if I was alive.

My first instinct was to get out.

Nobody had stopped yet to help this damsel in distress, so I tried to open the driver side door.

It was stuck.

The passenger side was blocked by the pole.

After I successfully suppressed a rush of panic, I realized the motor was still running.

A warm liquid trickled down my forehead. Sweat or blood, I decided, in no rush to find out.

I just put my foot down and took off, my whole body shaking, using vaguely familiar storefronts and intersections to semi-autopilot my way to the hotel, astonished to actually find myself in its parking lot.

I used my whole body weight to slam against the passenger side door, wedged it open and crawled out.

Like in a trance, I limped over to my room door when I heard someone yelling "Lindsay!"

It didn't register right away that, since it was the name I had been telling everyone, it was directed at me, until a hand grabbed my shoulder and I gasped out of my stupor.

What happened next could only be described as a system crash. Blue screen of death.

I meant to turn around to find the owner of the voice and hand, thinking they may be one and the same, and suddenly, the world changed from sunlight to blackest black.

When I came to, I was lying flat on my back, something wet and cool pressed against my forehead.

I opened my eyes and stared at an unfamiliar ceiling, my view partially obstructed by something white.

Before I could take further inventory, I sat up. A washcloth fell to the floor in front of me, and I was now sitting on the bed I had lain on.

In addition, a million tiny hammers went to work in my head and stars were dancing in my vision.

I groaned.

A rustle of clothes behind me caught my attention, but I didn't trust my neck enough to turn around.

Moments later, Joe swam into view, a concerned look on his face.

Oh bugger.

"How're you feeling?" He opened.

Slowly, my mind wrapped itself around the events earlier, and I figured I had fainted into Joe's arms. And missed it. So my luck.

"Uhm…" I thought that was a fair assessment of how I felt, but not very informative.

"What happened?" OK, that was a start. Assuming Joe had been the one calling out when I had arrived at the motel, he should know.

Joe stepped closer and squatted in front of me, in an irritating reenactment of the scene in Steve Moreno's apartment.

His chocolate-brown eyes regarded me as if expecting me to collapse again, but he seemed genuinely concerned.

And me unable to enjoy the moment of full Morelli-attention because the room was still kind of spinning. Typical.

"Just now? You fainted, but I don't think my presence shocked you into unconsciousness."

He picked up the washcloth and held it to my forehead again.

"You got out of your car that looks like something from the junkyard and walked right past me. Do you remember what happened before you got out of the car?"

"There was a crash."

"I gathered as much from the smushed car, I meant more along the lines of what the fuck happened?"

Oh, that.

Wait, I did know the answer!

I told Joe about the car slamming into me and taking off, although I couldn't remember why it had seemed so important to drive back to the hotel afterwards, and took the washcloth from him.

Our fingers touched momentarily, and I got little tingles from the sensation.

He gently pushed me back to lie down again and I was glad to realize that I didn't feel bad enough not to be disappointed at the fact that he didn't join me.

"I think you should go see a doctor." He stated, hands on hips. He really did have movie star good looks.

I slowly shook my head.

"I'll be fine. Could you maybe get me the Advil out of my car and some water?"

Oh great, now I was making him my nurse? Where had that come from?

Even curiouser, why did he quickly leave to do as I had asked?

I really hoped he was though, not just stepping outside to call an ambulance, because that really didn't fit into my plans.

Granted, I didn't have much of a plan, but going to the hospital wasn't much of one either.

Joe returned a few minutes later with my shopping bags. I had totally forgotten about them.

There were all kinds of potentially embarrassing items in them, but he methodically dug through them until he found the Advil, cracked the lid and handed me two.

He fished a bottle of water out of the next bag, opened it, and pushed it into my free hand.

I felt like shit, but at that moment, I could have purred.

He probably would have helped me up if I had looked a little more helpless, but I didn't want to push my luck. Slim line between helpless and in need of a doctor.

So I sat up by myself and downed the pills. I didn't know if they would help with the spinning, but they were going to silence the hammers for sure.

I felt better when I closed my eyes, but then I couldn't see Joe, so I kept them open. Small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things.

I turned my head enough to see the bedside clock; it was 2:30. It occurred to me that I was missing some time, so I had probably been out longer than a moment. I wondered if Joe had dragged me to the bed or had carried me like a knight in shining armor. Of all the questions, that one was the most pressing. Go figure.

Probably, I should have tried to lie down again, maybe even sleep, but then Joe would leave.

But why was he still here anyway?

"Why are you helping me?" I croaked out, and it sounded more hostile than I had intended.

"Sorry, I meant, why are you here? No that's not what I meant either…"

Joe's chuckle cut me off just in time, there was no stopping me once I really got onto the rambling train.

He had slouched down into one of the chairs by the foot of the bed and was watching me.

"I had more questions for you, I think. You sure know how to distract a man!" and he laughed softly.

I know he didn't mean it THAT way, but I still liked the way he said it, and his laughter was just infectious. It changed his whole face, softened his features.

"I try." I shot back, smiling, and I may have been trying to flirt at that point.

"You didn't by any chance see who was driving the car that crashed into you, or got its plates?"

It didn't sounds like he expected a positive answer, so I just shook my head no. "Sorry. It happened so fast…"

And then the tears fell. I hadn't even noticed they had crept up, hadn't felt it coming, but now it had all the signs of a major breakdown.

I took in some big gulps of air and hid my face in my hands, unable to stop the sobs.

Most of the men I knew would have jumped up and suddenly remembered some important thing to do, or, at the very least, shoved their hands into their pockets and panicked.

But Joe was at the bed within seconds and held me to his chest.

Now I cried even harder because I was mad at myself for being unable to enjoy the moment and have all kinds of sexual fantasies just because he touched me.

I didn't even really know why I was crying, I just couldn't stop it.

Having never been in any kind of car crash, I had no frame of reference. Up until that moment, I thought I had fared pretty well.

Joe was stroking my hair while murmuring "Shhhhh…it's okay…you'll be fine…" and such, it was very lulling.

I was finally able to stop sobbing, but I couldn't yet distance my self from the strong arms that were holding me. Also, I was too embarrassed to look at him.

He fished a tissue out of the box on the nightstand and handed it to me without letting go.

Maybe we could just stay like this forever, I wondered. I couldn't remember a time when I had felt safer than at that moment, in a strange room with a strange man. Well, sort of strange. I was a stranger to him.

I blew my nose and cleared my throat, inching away from him. Joe let me go but didn't get up off the bed.

"Sorry." I got out, my voice croaky from crying.

"Do you feel better?"

I nodded.

"I don't usually break down like this, it's just that…" what, exactly? It's just that I wasn't who I wanted everyone to believe I was, that I had no idea what I was doing and just wanted to wake up? Yes, that would sound totally healthy.

"It's OK." Joe just said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ears.

"You look like it was quite a rough one."

Oh Ted, was he trying to tell me I looked a mess?

I jumped up trying to go find a mirror, but I swayed and almost fell back onto the bed, the whole room was spinning.

Joe was at my side in an instant and steadied me.

I was OK after a moment and took a careful step.

Joe kept a hand on my elbow, but didn't follow. I guessed he didn't trust me to walk by myself yet but didn't want to appear smothering.

I shot him a grateful look and a shy smile and continued my journey to the bathroom.

What I saw in the mirror should have waited until later. Much later, like never.

To say that I was a mess was an understatement.

I must have gotten cut during the accident, and the blood had dried in my hair, clumping up and coloring it in odd spots.

My mascara had spread halfway down my cheeks and had settled into minor scratches on my face, drawing attention away from my bloodshot eyes.

Scary. Frightening even.

I shuddered involuntarily and turned on the faucet. But then I turned it off and stepped into the shower instead. No amount of sink water could clean me up, I needed full-body spray, preferably for an hour or two.


	8. Chapter 8

On to Chapter 8, I hope you're still with me. Thanks again for your reviews, you guys are so kind!

Spoilers: If you hadn't read the books, you wouldn't be here, but you won't be spoiled either way, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG13 for language, it's adult language

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters, and I'll probably give them back good as new

Out Of my Mind

Chapter 8

While the plan was to soak under the shower until I got pruney, I realized quickly that I had left all my newly purchased toiletries in the bedroom. With Joe. Clearly outside of my reach at the moment. So I just lathered, rinsed and repeated and let the stream massage my head until my headache toned down somewhat.

Of course now, I was faced with a new dilemma: my dirty clothes were in a pile on the bathroom floor; I really didn't want to wear the sweaty and blood stained t-shirt another minute.

The bath towel covered me somewhat, but not enough to prance around in front of Joe Morelli, hotness incarnate!

I towel dried my hair and combed it with my fingers, hitched the towel up as high as possible and cracked the door open.

"Uhm, Joe?" I called through the crack.

No answer.

"Detective Morelli?"

When I still didn't get an answer, I risked a peek.

Joe was not in my room.

I was relieved to be spared the embarrassment, but disappointed that he had just left, as I quickly gathered up my stuff and hid in the bathroom once more.

Originally, I hadn't been quite sure if the motel came with maid service, but clearly, someone had straightened up my room while I had been gone. The bed was made and the bedspread was neatly covering it, assorted items had been picked up and placed on the table.

I felt a lot better when I exited the bathroom, fresh clothes, styled hair and only a mild headache remaining.

Praising the 'always prepared'-tote in my purse, I put some ointment and band-aids on the bigger cuts I could find. All bleeding had stopped and I hoped there wouldn't be any scarring.

I had just plopped down on the bed and grabbed the remote when there was a knock on the door.

I wanted to jump up and open it, but then I froze.

What if the car that had hit me had followed me here and the driver was now knocking to finish up the job?

Although I had tried to tell myself it had been an accident, I wasn't very convincing.

"Lindsay? It's Joe." Came a muffled voice through the door.

I let out a sigh of relief and got up to open, when Joe let himself in.

He was balancing a pizza box and a six-pack of beer in one hand and I noticed he had changed out of his dress shirt into a black t-shirt that was tucked into his blue jeans.

Truly a sight for sore eyes.

"Sorry I didn't lock the door when I left, I couldn't find the key." He smiled apologetically as he crossed the room and put the pizza carton and the beer on the table.

"I brought dinner." He added needlessly.

I wasn't really hungry, but I appreciated the gesture immensely.

"I thought you had left." God, I hope that hadn't sounded too needy.

"Nah. I just had to call in your description of the car, maybe we'll get lucky and they'll take it to a local repair shop. And I thought you'd be hungry."

My turn to say something, I realized, but I couldn't come up with anything appropriate. Or at all, for that matter.

Morelli took the remote out of my hand and that startled me out of my immobility. I hadn't even noticed I was still standing where I had stopped when the door opened.

He flicked on the TV, and changed it to a basketball game.

I grabbed a slice of pizza and the beer Morelli offered and sat down in one of the chairs.

"Feel better?" He asked, taking in my appearance.

I nodded, thankful that my full mouth excused me of a verbal answer, since I didn't trust my voice as his eyes traveled up and down my body.

We ate in silence, me focusing on the task of chewing and swallowing, Joe alternating his attention between the pizza and the ballgame.

After his second piece of pizza, he took his beer and settled back in his chair.

"So, Lindsay Taylor…" I didn't quite like the way he had said 'my' name.

"Wanna tell me about yourself?"

His voice was calm, but his look had intensified.

"What would you like to know?" when in doubt, always answer a question with a question.

"Well, for starters, I checked with Boston, and they had never heard of you."

Uh-oh. I had lied to a cop. The cuffs would be next, and then I'd spend my one allowed phone call on my mother, frantically trying to come up with a reason why she'd have to bail me out.

I cleared my throat.

"You checked up on me?" Great, I was buying some time!

He chuckled.

"Well, I ran your plates, but I didn't think you were Jeffrey Nagel."

I knew it! He had memorized my plates the night before!

"So I called Boston PD, just to see if Lindsay Taylor regularly delivered FTAs to them. Turns out she doesn't."

He had talked about me in the third person, I could almost hear my cell door slam shut.

"I, uhm, don't work in Boston proper."

That was true, but no other precinct in the commonwealth of Massachusetts would give him any other information than the one in Boston.

Joe seemed to consider my reply.

"How did you get my number?"

Damn. That one was harder. I was going to confess that I 'worked' under a different name and was ready to spin that thread further, I hadn't yet come up with a good fib for why I had called him.

What was there to say? 'Your voicemail'?

Wait, half a mo', that could be an out!

"I…asked to speak to someone in homicide and they…connected me to your voicemail." Now, if I could only get myself to meet his eyes, that would almost sound plausible. Maybe.

I forced my eyes up.

Joe had a 'Hmmm' expression. I considered it a point for me, since he didn't shake his head and laugh or take out his cuffs.

I took a long pull from my beer.

"Let's say I believe you…"

Yes, let's! Please? I looked at him expectantly.

"You stumble upon a homicide, a guy you were planning to take down for failure to appear, but whom you had never met before…"

All true so far, really.

"Then of all the phone calls you could have made, you call the one cop who had a professional relationship with Moreno, me."

Well, yeah, but I didn't know that last part until Joe had told me. Should I bring that up?

Uncharacteristically, I decided to let him finish.

"So my one lead to the Senor gets dead and less than a day later, someone tries to run you off the road and takes off."

There was this Senor again.

Technically, they succeeded, they had run me off the road, but I wasn't going to stop his train of thought.

I realized Joe was waiting for me to fill in the blanks.

My hand gripped the beer bottle a little tighter to keep it from fidgeting.

"I didn't know you knew Moreno until you told me last night." I said, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt.

"And I still don't know anyone named Senor, no matter how much you or Ranger bring him up."

"Ranger?"

Uh-oh.

I didn't know if it was good that he focused on something else or bad because I had enraged him.

"He was in the parking lot this morning, when you dropped me off. He thought I knew this Senor guy and worked for him."

Joe scoffed at that.

"Either he was pulling your leg or he doesn't know the Senor very well. You're not his type, Sugar."

Sugar? Not quite Cupcake, but getting closer. I hid my smile behind the bottle as I took another sip.

"Blonde?" I asked.

"Female."

Oh. OK, I thought. So Joe wouldn't assume I was working for the Senor, either because this guy was a chauvinistic pig or was gay. Hopefully.

"No, I don't think you work for him."

Phew. Was he reading my mind or had I looked that panicked?

"Lord help me, I'm beginning to think you got yourself into more of a mess than you intended."

Now there was an angle. Me, helpless victim. Just your regular bounty hunter, out for a stroll, discovering a murder.

I liked it.

"Mess?" I managed. There was the mind block again. Maybe Joe just thought I was too dense to pull off anything illegal.

"If we assume that the accident was no accident, it would appear that someone is trying to scare you. Or worse."

I wanted to say 'Worse?', but I was able to stop myself just in time. No need to become a complete idiot.

He seemed to relax a little in his chair. Or maybe I had just misinterpreted his former stance.

"Who would know I was the one who found Moreno?" I asked, saying the first thing that came to my mind. Usually, that gets me into trouble, but it seemed like a logical question.

Morelli looked like he hadn't considered that and frowned.

"Only someone who was watching the building could have seen me leave it after the cops had arrived." I felt the need to add that, in case Joe would think I was considering him to be the one.

"Unless…"

"Shit!"

"What?" What had I said?

He raked his hands through his hair and lowered his head.

"No, nothing. Let's go with your theory and assume someone was watching."

"You think it was someone inside!"

That was it, wasn't it? He didn't know if someone from his team had talked, at least he couldn't rule it out! Damn, I was good.

Joe sighed and opened two more bottles to replace our empty ones.

"I'm not sure." He finally said.

See? I knew it! Well, in the sense that I had no clue, but I was a good guesser.

I took a long pull from my bottle and glanced at the label. Yuengling. Sweet! The man had taste.

"I meant I am not sure what your role is in all this."

Uh-huh, sure, nice try. I'm on to something here, and you're mad you didn't think of it yourself, Buster.

I decided to keep that thought to myself though.

"You show up out of nowhere. You call me, you get me engaged, but then you seem to be a target."

It seemed like he was thinking out loud. I was pretty proud of myself for not revealing that, for a second, I had to think about how he had meant 'engaged'. I only ever used that word in another context, my bad.

"You're trying to decide if you can trust me."

Not a question, a statement based on a hunch.

"Yeah." He admitted. "You don't really fit into any of the drawers I want to put you in."

He really did need to stop using metaphors that could send my imagination on a rampage, and quickly. The alcohol had started to loosen me up.

"I'm not really a one-drawer kind of girl." I was shocked to realize I had said it out loud.

Was I imagining his eyes getting softer or was he really starting to see me under a different light?

"I'm beginning to learn that." He said, his voice softer than before.

That's all it took to make me blush, and he smiled.

Gosh, he had a dreamy smile! I wasn't even sure what we had been talking about anymore.

Joe seemed to enjoy my uncomfortableness.

When he took a sip from his beer, I noticed his left hand for the first time. No ring.

Normally, it's the first thing I check on a guy (OK, maybe after his eyes or his ass), but I had been too flustered before.

And now that the conversation had shifted, I suddenly became a lot more aware of the fact that we were all alone in the room, with the bed a foot away.

I didn't think that was the direction Joe's thoughts were taking, but I was nervous just the same.

I almost jumped when his cell phone chirped, and I noticed Joe didn't fare much better.

Saved by the ring.

"Excuse me." We both said at the same time, me to take a time out in the bathroom, he to answer the call.

"Yeah." I heard him say, just before I closed the bathroom door to lean against it.

Unfortunately, I had never taken any yoga or Zen classes, I had no cheat sheet to cleanse my mind quickly and lower my heart rate.

I took a few deep breaths and forced myself to think.

Not that I was a virgin or anything, but I wasn't an expert on sexual tension either.

It was entirely possible that Morelli was playing along for entirely different reasons.

I knew first hand that, just because you were attracted to someone, it didn't mean that they were attracted back.

So the only possible way to go was to play it cool, appear neutral.

I wished I had my gun belt to give me confidence, but I had taken it off when I got into my car, and it had been the furthest thing from my mind when I had gotten dressed.

Morelli's voice carried over to me, but it was too low to make out the words.

I decided to wait until he was off the phone and busied myself with washing my hands.

He was finishing his beer when I got back into the room.

"I have to go." He announced.

"We'll continue this later, I'll be back tonight."

I wasn't sure how to react, my inner fangirl screamed and my inner self gasped.

"OK." Was what I finally said, and that earned me a smile before he turned to leave.

Now I really understood the term 'I hate to see you go but I love to watch you leave.', his ass really was among the finest I had ever laid eyes on.

Unfortunately, he turned just as he had opened the door and caught my stare.

His expression was unreadable, but it was in the vicinity of a smirk.

"Lock the door behind me." He suggested, and then he was gone.

I fell into the chair with a moan, hoping he had missed my tomato-red cheeks.


	9. Chapter 9

This is the 9th chapter, and if you think you know the direction this story is heading after reading it, don't count on it.

Thank you for your awesome feedback, you keep me writing more!

Spoilers: If you hadn't read the books, you wouldn't be here, but you won't be spoiled either way, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG13 for language, adult situations and whatnot

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters, and I'll probably give them back good as new

Out of my Mind

Chapter 9

So far, I had tried everything I could think of.

I had closed my eyes and counted to ten, gone to sleep, and fainted. The latter involuntarily, but still, the outcome was always the same: When I opened my eyes, I was still in this warped version of Stephanie Plum's world.

One could argue that I hadn't exactly tried to get away, but that didn't explain its existence in the first place.

Truth was, I was far too curious to leave.

I had time to ponder those thoughts as I sat alone in my motel room, nursing my beer.

It was just after four and I wondered what Joe had meant by 'tonight'. And, more importantly, how long was I going to wait for him without leaving my room? What was reasonable, what would look desperate? Tough choice.

In the midst of this intense discussion with myself, someone knocked on the door.

I smiled.

Who was looking desperate now?

I was so sure it was Joe returning that I just yanked the door open, not checking out the window, not asking who it was.

It wasn't Joe.

No one was in front of my door, and yet my heart did a tap dance as I realized what I had just done and what could have happened.

I really needed to get into this vigilant mindset. Not an easy task for a girl from the Boston burbs.

I looked around, but no one was on the path outside the room doors.

Shrugging, I was about to close the door again when I noticed a white envelope, just where a door mat would be in front of an entrance door.

It wasn't addressed to anyone, and after just a moment's hesitation, curiosity took over and I picked it up.

There was something very familiar about a strange message anonymously left, I should have expected it in Stephanie's Trenton, right?

Of course, that didn't mean I was going to like it, I reasoned as I turned the envelope over and over, walking back to my chair.

Maybe I should wait for Joe to come back before I opened it?

Then what if it was some junk mail or my room bill, that would be so anticlimactic.

No, I was going to drink another beer for courage and then I was going to open the envelope.

OK, I really didn't think my curiosity would let me wait much longer anyway, but the beer couldn't hurt, my nerves need some serious calming.

The message was simple.

'Soon' it said, black cursive on a white, heavy, expensive-looking card.

Accompanying it were 2 glossy pictures, showing Steve Moreno in his bathtub and more detail than I thought comfortable, and a print-out of my head photoshopped onto Steve's body.

Well, at least that didn't leave it up to my imagination what would happen 'soon', I reasoned.

I was wicked glad I had drunk that third beer, the panic didn't really have a chance to break through the mellow.

So someone wanted me dead. All right, virgin territory. I hadn't even had too many people tell me to frell off in my life, much less hate me enough to want to kill me.

It seemed simpler to assume the author of the note was the driver of the car that had hit me, it wouldn't make sense to have different parties after me. I hadn't been in town long enough to have any enemies!

With that thought, I opened the last beer, knowing it would push me over the limit. With any luck, I'd be able to pass out and forget all about the queasy feeling I was getting.

I was startled awake by banging on the door. Apparently, I had dozed off on the chair after all.

"Who is it?" I yelled out this time, not planning on repeating the afternoon's performance.

It was 6:45 and the room had darkened around me.

"Detective Morelli." Joe said. I recognized his voice, but when did he switch from just 'Joe'?

I flicked the switch to light the room and unlocked the door.

Joe looked mostly like that afternoon, a little worse for the wear maybe.

He was by himself, so company hadn't been the reason for the formal address.

"Detective Morelli?" I just had to ask.

"Well, I don't know how many Joes you know." He said, winking, as he entered and closed the door behind him.

A big weight was lifted off my shoulders, he hadn't switched to 'cop Morelli' to arrest me. Good thing, too, because his winking was all I could handle right then.

Joe took in the empty beer bottles and the leftover pizza, still on the table.

"Did I wake you?" He asked good-naturedly.

"Maybe." I smiled as I gathered the empties and put them back in the carrier and placed it in the waste basket. Mainly, I needed something to keep me busy, I didn't know how to start a conversation.

"An admirer of yours?"

Joe was standing at the table, studying the note and the pictures without touching them.

I had forgotten them, my attention focusing on my visitor.

"Yeah, I'm quite a popular one." Maybe that had sounded cool and calm, as if that sort of thing happened to me twice a week.

"Did you noticed the picture of you must have been taken after your crash this afternoon? There's blood on your head."

I had noticed the blood, but I had been hoping it was part of the Photoshop job.

Joe frowned and swore under his breath, then he took out his cell phone and punched in a number.

"It's Morelli. You're gonna be at the lab a little while longer?"

He must have not liked the answer, his frown line grew deeper.

"Fine. I have something for you first thing in the morning."

And he disconnected.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked at me.

"I don't know how safe you're going to be here tonight. If you want, I can assign a uniform to the parking lot."

How about himself? He could guard my body, right? I'm sure I'd be perfectly safe. Well, from the criminals, anyway.

I gestured dismissively.

"That's OK. I'm armed. I can take care of myself." Damn skippy. I was a fearless bounty hunter, after all.

Probably, I didn't sound all that convincing, as Joe now raised an eye brow.

"Like this afternoon?" He asked, pointing out the obvious.

"That was different." I explained. "I wasn't expecting it. I am prepared now."

"You're not even wearing your gun!"

This was true. Had they tried anything besides leaving the note earlier, they would have caught me completely unprepared.

But I really didn't want a baby sitter.

"Well, I will from now on!" I challenged him, meeting his gaze and assuming a defiant stance.

All that was missing was for me to cross my arms across my chest and stomp my foot, and the picture would have been complete.

"What do you care anyway?"

That hadn't been fair. Joe had every reason to mistrust me and instead, he had gone above and beyond for me, feeding me and caring for me.

I really didn't know why I was challenging him.

"It's not you I care about!" He was quick to shoot back.

Oh, that hurt.

"It's your involvement in this case and getting to the guys who are stalking you!"

He seemed pretty angry now, and I probably deserved it, but I just felt stung.

Whatever I had imagined during our intimate meal earlier, I had clearly been mistaken.

I felt tears burning. Damn them waterworks, I was never good at controlling them!

I was going to say something to get back at him, but I knew I might burst into tears at any moment and I really didn't want to cry in front of Joe again.

Aside from the satisfaction that he had won the argument I initiated, I didn't want him to know how much he had hurt me. Probably, he hadn't meant anything by it, he had just been stating the facts.

To get to the bathroom, I had to pass Joe, and there wasn't much room if I didn't want to jump on the bed.

My head down, I almost ran for it, but he stopped me by grabbing my arm.

"Hey." He said, his voice soft once again.

I tried to free my arm, but he only held on tighter and encircled me with his other arm.

"I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

I was shaking with the effort to hold back the tears, he was holding me so close now that I could feel his body heat.

That sensation must have short-circuited my brain, because I felt myself relax into his arms as I lifted my head.

Our faces were inches apart, so I stood up on tippy toes and closed the gap, my eyes focusing on his mouth. It was a pretty gutsy move, but I didn't think I could feel much crappier than moments before, no matter what happened.

In a split second, I send a prayer to all the gods I had ever heard of.

And then I kissed him.

I couldn't remember ever having initiated a kiss, and If he was going to push me back and laugh, I was going to storm out of the room and take off, never to come back.

He didn't push me back.

His lips parted and our tongues met, a shot of electricity traveled all the way down from my mouth to my toe nails.

He released my elbow and was using his arm to pull me closer yet, his other hand started wandering down my back.

I had had my share of kisses before, but none had ever had me so glad I was being held. If Joe hadn't held me, I would have slipped to the floor.

To say that he was an awesome kisser was the understatement of the year.

He did all kinds of magic things with his tongue and my mind went blank.

Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised, since I had been reading what great kisser he was, but what girl believes another about that before she experiences it for herself?

Exactly.

My body was on fire when we finally parted, and my breathing had become rapid.

I was too embarrassed to meet his eyes, so I straightened wrinkles out of his shirt where my hands had grabbed it.

Joe was smiling.

"Apology accepted?" He teased.

"Apology accepted." I confirmed, my voice barely above a whisper.

He was still holding me tight, and a hand was stroking my back.

We were fully clothed, but my nipples had become tight little ball bearings that were straining against my bra and t-shirt, touching Joe's chest.

And unless he was wearing his gun in an unusual place, the kiss hadn't left him unaffected either.

"Good thing you don't care about me." I said when I could muster a deep enough breath for a whole sentence. Although I wasn't quite sure he cared about me, I couldn't imagine how he'd kiss when he REALLY cared.

Joe laughed softly and released me.

"This is possibly the worst timing ever, but I have to go." He said.

His eyes were dark pools of molten chocolate. I was drowning in them.

"Oh?" I really didn't have an intelligent come back that wouldn't have sounded totally disappointed.

"I am due to replace a colleague at a stake out in a half hour." He explained. "I'm sorry."

And he pecked me on the lips.

Could I ask him if he'd be back? Or when I'd see him again?

"Be careful tonight, I'll see you tomorrow?"

Okay then, there was my answer.

I hope my "Okay." didn't sound too pitiful.

He took the note and pictures off the table with a napkin.

"I'll take these to the lab tomorrow morning. Maybe something will come out of it."

Oh, we were back to business. I just nodded.

Joe smiled and tucked a strand of hair back behind my ear.

"You're cute when you're sulking."

I was about to respond, but he was already in motion and out the door before I had thought of something appropriate to say.

I collapsed onto the bed, exhaling deeply.

My only coherent thought was 'Wow'.

I had just made out with Joe fucking Morelli, and my wildest fantasies about him had been surpassed.

I had never been kissed that way, I didn't even know a simple kiss could put me in the state I was in. Although there was nothing simple about the kiss.

Maybe I would have stayed spread on the bed for the rest of the night if a knock on the door hadn't pulled me out of my reverie.

What now?

Joe changing his mind or assassin back to finish the job?

The scary thought was that both possibilities were about 50 likely.

And me still without my gun.

I berated myself about that all the way to the door.

"Who is it?" I called out, my eyes searching the room for something that could be used as a weapon.

I listened into the night behind the door.

"Ranger."

Whaaa? No, no, no. That was not happening.

Nope, not a possibility. If I stayed quiet, he may change his mind and leave.

"Open up."

Oh, so not that much with the leaving.

"Hang on!" I almost squealed, trying to buy time, my heart racing in sync with my mind, what to do?

What did he want?

I cleared my throat in a last effort to seem normal and opened the door.

"Yes?"

I thought that sounded sane.

"I need to talk to you."

And with that, he moved past me into the room and left me to close the door.

Talking was not a thing that came to mind when I looked at him, and I had a sinking feeling I wouldn't be any good at it.

Joe had left me high and dry, well, OK, hot and bothered, just a half hour before and now Ranger pranced in, all black and muscle.

Not good timing.

I grabbed my water bottle off the night stand to have something in my hands.

"How did you find me?"

Ranger raised an eye brow at my question as if it was way too obvious.

"I saw your car in the parking lot."

Well, that made sense. And could be true. My car was somewhere out there, I couldn't quite remember where I had left it.

I nodded and motioned for him to sit down, I was already getting neck cramps from straining to look up at him.

Amazingly, he sat down.

"Heard you had an accident." He said, his voice emotionless.

"Who told you that?" I wanted to know.

"Your car." He almost-smiled.

I couldn't figure out if he was being sarcastic or mysterious.

"Is that why you're here?" And if it wasn't, he needed to come to the point quickly, because I was about to bounce off the walls and he looked like the picture of calm.

"Word is, some people think you offed Moreno." Ranger said.


	10. Chapter 10

Wow, double-digit chapters! I didn't know I had so much to say…

Thank you for your awesome feedback, I couldn't do this without you!

Spoilers: If you hadn't read the books, you wouldn't be here, but you won't be spoiled either way, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG13 for language, adult situations and whatnot

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters, and I'll probably give them back good as new

Out of my Mind

Chapter 10

"Word is, some people think you offed Moreno." Ranger said.

Huh, that was news.

Who would come up with that? I certainly didn't think that I gave off the impression I could kill a puppy, let alone a human being. Although maybe I could kill a man easier than a puppy.

Probably, Ranger was just trying to get a reaction. Feel the waters, so to say.

He couldn't be serious, I decided, and I told him so.

"You think I'm making this up?" He asked.

He dwarfed the chair. All lean and hard muscle, he looked like he'd own any room he'd step into. And he could snap me like a twig, if he had a mind to. I certainly hoped that thought hadn't occurred to him, but if I kept on annoying him it might.

He was still wearing the outfit I saw him in earlier, or one exactly like it, black on black, and there wasn't an imperfection anywhere, as if he had spent his day bubble-wrapped.

His eyes had narrowed slightly as he was watching me.

"Looks like your car wasn't the only thing getting roughed up."

He let his gaze travel down my body with that subject change, and I quickly sat down.

"I've been through worse." I said dismissively.

Once, when I was 5 or so, I had fallen off the back of a bike, and I had been bruised and scraped for weeks. That counted, right?

No response from Ranger, no way of knowing what he was thinking.

The silence grew uncomfortable.

"Why would anyone think I killed a guy I never even knew?"

His shoulders lifted half an inch, and the movement could be interpreted as a shrug.

"Just sharing what I heard, Babe."

I had already opened my mouth to say what I had planned, but at 'Babe', all coherent thought escaped me.

Swallowing painfully, I took a sip from my water.

He probably called all women 'Babe'. I have a friend who calls everyone 'Hon', because it saves him the trouble of remembering names.

Although Ranger didn't strike me as the type who would forget a name.

Still, in the interest of sanity, it was probably best to forget what I heard. Maybe I had just imagined it anyway.

"And what exactly did you hear?" I finally asked, mostly because it would bounce the ball back into his court and I wouldn't have to get an aneurysm trying to come up with something to say.

Ranger leaned forward slightly.

"That you should be more careful when driving a car."

Ranger humor, hilarious. Only I didn't find it too funny. Although since he hadn't even cracked an almost-smile, there was a chance he wasn't kidding.

"I told you I had nothing to do with the murder and you said you believed me."

I couldn't have stated it any more complicated with an hour's preparation.

"I do. I'm not the one who is spreading rumors about you." He said.

"Then who is?" I was getting impatient. While he was talking in full sentences now, getting any information from him was like trying to milk mice.

"The Senor." He eventually revealed, back to his 2-word limit.

"You thought I was working for him!" I exclaimed, really not liking the head games.

"I was wrong." He stated.

It was a good thing he was hot as all hell, because I didn't think he would ever be found attractive for his conversation skills.

I felt the need to throw something, preferably something that would shatter upon impact.

"I have to go." I snapped.

What I meant was that he had to go, but I would rather walk on burning coals than tell him that.

I could not have this conversation with some alcohol still buzzing in my system and the remainder of a headache humming along for the ride.

Ranger was at my side as soon as I got up, I hadn't even seen him move.

"Don't underestimate the Senor." He warned.

How could I underestimate (or overestimate, for that matter) a guy I had never heard of before 24 hours ago? I didn't know who he was! OK, a bad guy, I had gathered that much, but was he a mob boss, a serial killer, a drug dealer? People were acting like I was in on this secret and it was really starting to piss me off.

I felt the need to go all Scarlett O'Hara, blink my eyes at Ranger and ask him if he would protect me from the bad, bad man.

Probably, that would be a bad move. But the thought did lighten my mood a little.

"Then you might want to tell me who he is!" I said instead, Scarlett would have to wait.

Ranger thought about that for a moment, I believed.

We were so close now that I could feel his breath on my skin on every exhale.

"Why don't I show you."

'Show me what?' I wanted to ask, the Senor completely forgotten. When he spoke, I was just beginning to wonder if he was an even better kisser than Joe, or if they would just be different. My eyes were glued to Ranger's mouth.

He nudged my side and brought me back to reality.

I may have said "OK." But it was impossible to hear my voice over the blood rushing in my ears.

Ranger kept his hand on my side as he pushed me towards the door, and that probably meant we were going somewhere together. Had he removed his hand, I would have just stood still, dumbfounded.

We stopped just outside the door and he looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't you want to lock up?" He asked.

Oh right, the door. Why bother, it seemed like no one here had ever been deterred by a lock and deadbolt.

It took me a second to realize that Ranger was holding the key out for me.

When had he picked it up, and from where?

The last time I had seen it was when…I couldn't exactly remember how I had ended up in my room.

I took the key from Ranger, locked the door obligingly and slipped it into my pockets.

Those cargo pants were really handy, they had a gazillion pockets, and everywhere.

Speaking of pockets…

"My gun." I said, already scanning the parking lot in search of the Beetle.

"It's in my car. You should lock your car, too, especially if you leave hardware in it, Babe."

That time, I had definitely heard it.

What did it mean?

Ranger left my side and walked to his car. The black Porsche. Coolness.

He beeped it open and motioned to the passenger side.

"Get in."

Oh, OK. Simple command, I should be able to handle it.

With some effort, I willed my feet to walk, opened the door and got in beside him. I felt like I was sleepwalking.

Maybe I should ask where we were going, I wondered.

But did it matter?

Ranger reached behind me and produced my utility belt, with all my equipment that used to make me feel so cool. I couldn't think of anything that would make me feel cool in Ranger's presence.

If I wanted to put the belt on, I would have had to get out of the car, so I decided against it and just took it from him.

He buckled his seatbelt and, after a second, reached across me to pull mine out.

I gasped at his touch, slapping myself mentally for spacing out like that, but Ranger just snapped the belt home and started the car without a reaction.

Maybe I should stop breathing for a moment, I thought, maybe my heart rate would return to normal. But then maybe I'd pass out from lack of oxygen, so that wouldn't really help.

So I just focused my eyes out the windshield and tried to ignore the comfortable feeling of the leather seat under and all around me.

Ranger didn't say a word, probably in his infamous 'zone'.

The silence was fine by me for a change, since I had to concentrate on breathing evenly and not giggling nervously or, worse, screaming my head off.

I had never been to Trenton before and didn't recognize any street we were on, so I gave up trying to figure out where we were.

My motel was close to the highway, and we had followed that for a few miles, but then Ranger had taken an exit and made a few turns, so I had lost all sense of direction.

We finally turned into an underground garage, and Ranger pulled into a parking slot, killing the engine and the lights.

Holy Ted, was this the bat cave?

I looked around; to the left and right, black cars were lined up.

This was too good to be true!

I unbuckled and got out, since that was what Ranger was doing, but then I stood by the closed door, paralyzed.

Why was I so unable to move, when I usually couldn't sit still for more than a minute?

Couldn't I just conjure up some nonchalance and act normally?

I still held my belt, so I busied myself with putting it on.

Ranger beeped his car locked and stepped away to his left without looking back.

That meant I was to follow him, I concluded, so I did.

He held a heavy door open for me and we stepped into a concrete staircase, in front of us was an elevator door.

Ranger pushed an illuminated button and the elevator doors pinged open.

It looked like a service elevator, without the carpeting or nice wall paneling found in office buildings, and the silence between us continued as Ranger pushed the 5 button and we rode up.

So, not the Bat Cave then, but possibly RangeMan.

The doors opened, and I found myself facing what looked like Angelina Jolie's office in 'Mr. & Mrs. Smith': Monitors up and down walls, servers, workstations and other high-tech equipment I couldn't name.

Two men were facing the monitors. Dressed in merry men black. Both with a muscle-y bulk that tested the fabric of their t-shirts.

Neither of them turned when we arrived.

I wanted to let Ranger lead the way, but he cupped my elbow in his hand, leading me, so we were side by side.

We walked halfway into the control center-y room and then through a door to our right, which led to a kind of conference room. Only it looked more like a military briefing room, furnished with function, not comfort, in mind. Three large desks stood in a row; simple desk chairs were in front of them. Monitors were imbedded into the tabletops, and a conference phone sat in the middle.

"Sit down." Ranger said courtly and he flicked a few switches as I did what I was told.

The lights dimmed and a projection screen whirred down from the ceiling in front of us.

Ranger took the seat next to me and pulled out a keyboard that had been hidden under the tabletop.

He typed in a few commands and the screen lit up with horrible images.

Each photo lingered for about a minute, and that was about how long it took me to compute what I was seeing.

Mutilated bodies, severed limbs, disfigured women and children, pools of blood.

I felt bile rise in my throat and swallowed hard.

The slide show went on and on, never displaying the same image twice, each photo a degree worse than the one before.

I had always thought I was sort of desensitized by graphic images on TV shows and in movies, but this was pure horror, beyond the imagination of any Hollywood producer.

The screen finally went blank and we sat in complete darkness.

"Now you know."

I almost jumped at the sound of Ranger's voice.

"The…S…Senor did this?" I managed, my voice hoarse.

"Him and his posse." Ranger confirmed.

I was glad I was sitting down, I may have crumbled to the floor had I been standing up.

So a really bad guy then.

Not someone I didn't want to get to know. Hell, not even someone I wanted to know that I existed!

"Alejandro Garcia Najar. Colombian. He started out as a gun for hire, and word is he really enjoyed the kill." Ranger continued.

I didn't doubt that for a second.

"Then he expanded, both his organization and his m.o., materialized in Trenton last year."

Ranger turned the lights back on.

"And now he has me on his list." I finished for him.

"I doubt it's that serious." Ranger said, his eyes watching me carefully.

"You're not connected enough, not a risk factor. Maybe he just wants to play with you."

Was that supposed to make me feel better? I knew what it looked like when he killed, I really didn't want to imagine what it looked like when the Senor 'just' played.

"Why me?" I croaked.

Ranger did his almost-shrug again.

"Probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes that's all it takes."

"No." I said slowly, denial taking over.

"You must be wrong. What you're saying makes no sense. I'm nobody. I didn't do nothing!"

My grammar always went to hell when I was excited.

Ranger didn't interrupt my ramble, his eyes never leaving me.

It was all true though, the only possible explanation was that Ranger had the wrong girl, he couldn't have heard anything about me. I didn't even exist, for Ted's sake! I was a figment of my imagination!

And suddenly, I was just tired.

The day was catching up with me, it had panned out completely different than planned, and it had finally overwhelmed me.

I highly doubted I'd be able to sleep, but I wanted to be alone.

I got up, steadying myself on the chair.

Ranger frowned, but still didn't say anything.

"Take me home." I said, finally meeting his stare.

"What're you going to do?" He asked.

Valid question, I had no clue.

I straightened myself and put my fists on my hips.

"The way I see it, it's all hearsay. Your impression. An educated guess, maybe, but still just a guess." someone said.

Since Ranger's lips hadn't moved it must have been me.

He lifted his arm and touched the band-aid on my cheek. I brushed his hand away.

"Circumstantial evidence." I huffed.

Just quoting a line form one TV show or another.

Clearly, Ranger didn't know me. Since I had chosen to go with denial, that's what I was going to do. Until I was convinced otherwise, Alejandro Najar didn't know I was alive.

And short of dragging me, bound and gagged, into his bedroom, he didn't stand a chance of changing my mind. Maybe he could carry me unbound, with his bedroom as the final destination, I probably wouldn't put up a fight.

"So you're just going to ignore everything?" He motioned to the now empty screen.

"I think I'm going to bed now, and I'm going to sleep for a really long time. I'm going to decide what I will do when I wake up." I replied.

That actually sounded like a pretty good idea. I'd think about it tomorrow.

Ranger sighed and scratched his left cheek, probably wondering why he had cared in the first place.

I was prepared to walk or catch a cab if I had to, but I really needed to get out.

He turned, opened the door, and then momentarily left my field of vision as he stepped further into the control room.

I was trying to catch up to him, when he already was on his way back.

Handing me a cell phone he just said: "In case you change your mind."

Then he left, and when I looked up from the phone in my hand, another man in black had replaced him.

Lester? Hal maybe? It wasn't Tank, I was pretty sure.

He was about 6 feet tall, dark skinned, but not as dark or as broad as Tank or Ranger. His eyes were of the darkest brown and didn't look like they missed much.

"I'm going to take you back." He simply said and extended a leading hand towards the elevator.

I guessed that meant I wasn't going to be treated to another ride in the Porsche, and I felt somewhat rejected by Ranger's sudden disappearance, but a large part of me didn't care about anything anymore.

"What's your name?" I asked Merry Man when we were seated in a black SUV.

"Cal." He replied as he started the engine. Ah, of course.

We didn't talk at all during the drive back, and other than a polite 'Thank you.' when I got out of the car in front of my room, I didn't feel the need to speak.

Like in a trance, I unlocked my door and got into my room.

I collapsed onto the bed and closed my eyes, praying that, when I woke up, I'd be far, far away, just waking up from a bad dream.

The last thing I heard was the SUV driving away.


	11. Chapter 11

OK, on to chapter 11

Thank you for your feedback, I appreciate it tremendously! And I will try to answer all your questions.

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG13 for language, adult situations and whatnot

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters, and I'll probably give them back good as new

Out of my Mind

Chapter 11

For the most part, I don't remember much about what I dream at night. Maybe some image or situation will come back to me during the day, but usually, I just know I dreamt, not about what.

I woke up because Riley was giving me cold kisses with his wet nose in an attempt to get enough of my attention to feed him.

I tried to swat him away and rolled onto my back. It didn't work, he jumped right on top of me.

There, he sat down majestically and watched me.

At that moment, the alarm came to life, buzzing annoyingly. I could not remember switching the setting from my favorite radio station to the buzzer, but I still tried to get to the snooze button.

I looked back at Riley. He was smiling now, and, lowering his head, he looked me in the eye and said "Babe."

I jolted awake, looking around disoriented.

It took me a minute to realize what had been the dream and what was reality (or a version of it).

The buzzing continued.

Not from an alarm clock, since I hadn't set the one in the motel, but from the cell phone in my pocket.

It was pitch black in my room, and clock radio announced it was 5 AM.

I had fallen asleep fully dressed, on top of the covers.

With some difficulty, I located the pocket that held my new cell phone, courtesy of RangeMan, and flipped it open.

I meant to say 'Hello?', but I think it sounded more like 'Hunho?'

"Have you decided yet?" Ranger asked, no fatigue in his voice.

"Huh?" Hey, I had identified Ranger as the caller, I think that was pretty smart of me. Figuring out what he was talking about could take a while; I was still trying to clear the cobwebs of sleep.

"You were going to wake up and decide what you were going to do, remember?"

No, I didn't remember. And I couldn't possibly care less at that moment.

I think it was rude to call me at such an ungodly hour and I wanted to tell him so, but that seemed like too much of an effort.

So instead, I just mumbled "I'll talk to you later." and disconnected. I thought I heard Ranger chuckle on the other end just before I hung up, but who knew?

Minutes before, my cat had been speaking with Ranger's voice, so anything was possible.

When I woke up, my room was warm from the late morning sun. I would have slept longer, but the banging on the door, followed by the 'Housekeeping!' holler prevented it.

I got to the door just in time, the maid was about to use her key on it. She didn't seem to mind at all that I was still in the room, and she smiled understandingly when I hung the 'Do not disturb' sign on the door.

Well, now I was up, and I actually felt somewhat refreshed by a good night's sleep.

I grabbed the motel-issued pen and notepad from my night stand and started writing.

'To Do' , it announced proudly at the top, and below, I listed methodically what I wanted to do.

After a serious deep cleaning, I was going to run out in search of a cell phone charger so I could reconnect with 'my' world, I was going to find a Laundromat to wash and dry my only pair of jeans (had I really thought I was going to wear nothing but cargo pants?), I was finally going to cash my check and, most of all, I was going to enjoy the day thoroughly.

I didn't put that last part on my to-do list, but it was part of the plan.

Joe had said "See you tomorrow.", that was something to look forward to.

I felt better already: I had a plan!

After carefully getting everything I would need for an hour or more in the bathroom, I turned the radio on to some heavy metal station and cranked it up. I needed brain scrubbing music.

Then I stepped into the shower and lathered, shaved, buffed, and conditioned to my heart's content.

Afterwards, I brushed my teeth, moisturized and combed my hair, sticking my tongue out at my reflection in the mirror.

I was going to plop down on the bed and relax for a bit, clad only in my towel.

But when I opened the bathroom door, I let out a scream I couldn't stifle in time.

Joe was lying on my bed, relaxed as could be, and he was smiling like the proverbial cat with the canary.

"Jeeeeez!" I yelled. He had scared me shitless, and I wanted him to know he had done something wrong.

"The door was open." Joe said loud enough to be heard over the music, his smile never faltering.

"It said 'Do not Disturb'" I countered, turning off the radio.

"That doesn't count." He replied, underlining his point with a dismissive gesture.

Other than the always-popular 'Does too!', I didn't know what to say, and that seemed kind of childish, so I just made some frustrated noise and rolled my eyes.

I was still standing in the door frame, not knowing which direction to take.

Obviously, I'd need to get to my bag if I wanted to get dressed. But unfortunately, I'd have to walk by the bed to get to the bag, and that meant parading in front of Joe in a bath towel.

On the other hand, if I went back into the bathroom, there was nothing to do and no clothes to change into, so it wouldn't accomplish much.

Which was the lesser of two evils?

I took a deep breath and started walking.

"So, how was your stake out?" I asked by way of making conversation. I didn't want to know if Joe was watching me, so I kept my eyes firmly on my duffel, grabbed some clothes, and turned around without waiting for his response.

Now I had a perfect excuse for locking the bathroom door and spending some time inside.

I knew Joe had said he'd be by, but I hadn't expected him this early.

To look my best, I put extra effort into my hair and make-up. My hair was shoulder-length and pretty straight, so it didn't amount to much until I did the whole mousse-blowdry thing.

That had the added advantage of giving me some time to come up with things to say to Joe.

I finished by putting on some pinkish lip gloss and blew myself a kiss in the mirror.

World, here I was!

Joe and I opened doors at the exact same time: I was trying to get to the bedroom and he had made a coffee run and was just getting back. Hot coffee and Joe after a shower, my life couldn't get much better than that! It gave a whole new meaning to the saying 'Cup of Joe.'

He put the coffees on the table and turned to face me, eyes wandering up and down. Again. Hoping it was a good sign, I smiled a little self-consciously, but was able to meet his eyes as I slowly closed the distance between us.

He avoided the awkward moment I had feared after our kiss the day before by brushing a kiss on my cheek and caressing my jaw line for a beat.

So he wasn't going to pretend it never happened, I realized with butterflies in my stomach.

"Thanks for the coffee." I said slowly, taking a seat.

"My pleasure." He replied with a wink, and that made it more of a quadruple entendre.

He took his cup and sat down across from me.

Today, he was wearing a dark green shirt and stonewashed jeans that were tight enough and wide enough at the same time; they fit him just right.

"You look cute when you step out of the shower." He remarked, and I felt the color creep up my face as I focused on my coffee.

"So how did the stake out go?" I repeated my earlier question to get to a safe topic.

Joe just blew out some air and shrugged.

"The perp didn't show?" I inquired, trying to sound all professional.

He gave a short laugh.

"Wasn't like that, we got word of a drug deal to happen sometime soon, and we were hoping they'd do some setup last night."

"So…have you heard anything from the Senor?" I hoped it had sounded like a by-the-way segue.

His expression changed, as if an invisible veil had been pulled over his face, it became unreadable.

"Like what?" he asked, his voice calm but his eyes intend.

Sandra Cline, master of the subtle subject change.

I cleared my throat and met his gaze.

"Ranger thinks the Senor his after me because he thinks I killed Moreno." I said slowly.

"That's ridiculous!" Joe scoffed. "Why would he be after you? He doesn't know you!"

See, that's exactly what I told Ranger!

"I know, but Ranger…"

Joe cut me off. "Ranger! Who are you going to believe, a cop or a merc?"

He ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated fashion.

Well, usually I believed the hotter guy, regardless of his profession, but since I couldn't make up my mind who was hotter, Joe or Ranger, I was torn. I decided not to reveal that part of my thought process.

"He thinks whoever ran me off the road yesterday works for the Senor."

And that was pretty much his only theory, I realized. It was possible I had forgotten to tell Ranger anything about the love letter with pictures.

Joe shook his head slowly.

"I don't have anything on who crashed into you yet, but I think it's best not to panic. It could have been anyone, for any reason."

Ah, the voice of sanity.

Probably, Ranger had just tried to scare me, to make me be more careful and vigilant.

So Ranger erred on the side of caution, while Joe was being realistic. I liked it.

It was totally different from denial, it was based on facts.

Well, missing facts, but the absence of a clue is a clue, right?

"And I don't see any evidence that the car is related to the note or that either of them is related to the Senor, just because Moreno was who he was. Both could be independent. And they could both be some nutcase's idea of a good joke." Joe explained further.

"Or it could be the same nutcase?" Maybe Joe should stop talking, he made me think. And if I had too much time to think, I may find holes in my theory.

"That's a possibility, too." He confirmed.

Oh, ooh, thought! New idea!

"And the nutcase could be Steve's murderer, because killing Moreno was his earlier idea of a good time, again unrelated?"

That was possible, right?

Joe's eyes narrowed and I could see his whole body tense.

"No." he finally said. "That's not very likely."

"Why not?" I challenged.

He sighed. "Well, I guess technically anything is possible, but that just seems too much of a coincidence. Which unfortunately leaves the option that it wasn't a random murder. And the note with the pictures ties you into the mess."

Could we go back to the earlier version, I liked it a lot better. The one where it was all no big deal? That had been Joe's idea!

He took a deep breath. "Here's what I do know:" he counted off fingers as he spoke, "No blue car has reported to any body shop in the last 24 hours, at least none with damage consistent with the crash. No prints were found on the note or the pictures. The techs were able to pinpoint the kind of printer that was used for the picture of you, but it's a popular kind."

"So really, we have nothing?" I finished for him.

"It's been almost a whole day without any new threat or attempt to kill you, I take that as a good sign." He corrected.

Well, OK, there was that.

"And also," he said, leaning forward "I am not a big fan of construing theories and come up with likely ideas. It's bound to scare you and may focus our attention away from real clues!"

"So what do you think I should do?" He was confusing me with his flip-flopping ideas.

"That's easy. You do nothing. Forget your FTAs for a while, stay away from criminals and their circles. You should be fine."

I didn't like the 'should'. It was the same word I used when talking to users on the phone about computer issues. In theory, I was giving them the solution to their problem, and if they followed instructions exactly, it 'should' work afterwards. On the other hand, his suggestion would let me do everything on my to-do list; tracing skips hadn't been on it anyway.

Joe didn't look like his own words had convinced him.

"You really don't know anything about anything, right?"

I chose to believe he was referring to the case and shook my head no.

"So…if we assume the note is the only thing resembling a connection to you…"

Whatever happened to not liking wild assumptions? He was changing his mid faster than I usually did, and I was an expert at it!

"Ah, forget it." He said defeated. "I can spin this a number of ways, and it still doesn't make any sense."

Oh great, now we were right back at the beginning, way to waste time.

At least he was relaxing a little though.

"Maybe you should call Jeffrey and tell him about his car though."

"Who?" He had lost me.

"Jeffrey Nagel, the owner of the car you crashed." He explained patiently.

"Jeremy." I corrected.

Joe jumped up from his chair.

"What?"

Huh? What had I missed?

"Jeremy Nagel, the friend of a friend, it's his car." Hey, he had brought it up, not me.

"When I told you yesterday that the car belonged to Jeffrey Nagel, you didn't object."

When had he…I frowned in an effort to remember a conversation about the Beetle.

Right, he did ask me at one point who I was and that I probably wasn't…had he said Jeffrey?

'Sorry, Joe, when you speak I only hear every other word because half the time, I'm picturing you naked.' Would be the truth, but even if I wanted to, I would never be able to get through that sentence without stuttering, blushing, sweating, or all of the above.

Joe was glaring down at me now, so I placed my coffee on the table and got up as well. He was still about a foot taller than me, but it was a little better than looking at him from a sitting position.

"I don't follow." I admitted. Truer words were seldom spoken.

Joe shook his head, a gesture that reminded me of exasperated parents who were trying to talk to their toddlers.

"Lindsay, who owns that car?" He pointed stiff-armed towards the door.

"Jeremy Nagel." Who had been nice enough to loan Jess his car to let me drive it and now would hopefully agree to let me pay off the money for the damages in monthly installments.

"Do you know who he is?" Joe asked, his volume up now.

Could somebody yell 'Cut!' already so we could attempt the scene again? I felt like I was missing a big piece of it.

I wanted to say 'I already told you!' but I didn't know if that would make him yell, so I repeated

"He is a friend of a friend from New York, I think he works at a book store. Why?"

There was no way to read Joe's expression. Stephanie had been right about his cop face.

I could imagine the thoughts racing in his head, his eyes looked turned inward.

"Joe?" I tried, touching his arm to get through to him.

He seemed to come back from somewhere far away when his eyes found mine once again.

"The DMV's database told me your car belonged to a Jeffrey Nagel, and there was nothing to know about him." He said.

Okay, no biggie. Typo in the database, it happens.

"Probably someone made a mistake somewhere. The initials are right, the address is right, what's the problem?" I asked, still unable to connect the dots between Jeremy-Jeffrey and Joe's aggressive reaction.

Joe shook his head.

"That's not the point. Jeffrey Nagel is nobody, a faceless name. Jeremy Nagel is a big name. He is a big problem for the Miami-Dade police department, their vice and homicide teams are working overtime, and they have been unable to stop his success or even put a dent into is expansion for years.'

My eyes grew wide.

"Not MY Jeremy Nagel! He lives in New York!" I said a tad too shrill even to my own ears.

And then the pieces clicked together and my knees buckled.

Joe caught me before I hit the floor and steered me towards the bed where he sat down next to me.

I wanted to ask if I had made the right connection, but I needed to put air into my lungs first. Seemed like a big task.

To everyone, I was just an ordinary girl driving around in her car. The nobody I really was. Then maybe, someone decided to check me out and start with trying to get my name through my car. They wouldn't get my name, they would get Jeremy's. Or, if they were the police, Jeffrey's.

Maybe that someone had wondered who I was when they had seen me at a crime scene, Steve Moreno's apartment to be precise.

So now they had a name and that name would raise eyebrows in certain circles. Maybe they hadn't made the effort to see if they had the right Jeremy pegged.

That's where I fit in; someone thought I was working for a mob boss from Miami.

It occurred to me that Ranger had been right on the money when he had assumed I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

When I managed to take in a full breath of air, I ran my suspicion by Joe and he nodded.

"So now you think the Senor thinks that Jeremy the mob boss wants to take over his territory and sent me to do it?"

Joe raised his eyebrows. "I think that's a jump to a big conclusion, but it may be in the ballpark. The more likely scenario is that it's considered rude to infiltrate someone else's scene and the annoyance must be eliminated."

He put his arm around me and pulled me towards him.

"Remember, Sweatpea, this is all just a guessing game at this point. I told you what a slippery slope assumptions can be. Don't rule out that we are wrong!" He said soothingly while running his fingers through my hair.

I wanted to believe him, and if it hadn't been for the disturbing pictures with the note, I almost could.

The question was which theory I was going to focus on.

I could either let myself be scared, crawl under the covers and never see the outside of my motel room, or I could decide that I needed proof first and continue my life as Joe had originally suggested.

The loudest voice in my head screamed that it was totally crazy and didn't make any sense; that I was jumping to conclusions because I had watched too many movies.

Some calm voice piped up and reminded me none of this was real anyway, so there was nothing to be scared off.

And from out of nowhere, Jess popped up in my head and asked me why I wasn't making out with Morelli already, being that I had him setting next to me.

A lot of good these voices did me.


	12. Chapter 12

And this makes a dozen chapters.

I have to confess, I'm neither a Cupcake nor a Babe, I'm torn like Stephanie, I want it all!

Your feedback keeps me going, and I thank you very much!

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG13 for language, adult situations and whatnot

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters, and I'll probably give them back good as new

Out of my Mind

Chapter 12

I was still trying to sort through the various voices in my head when Joe's hand started wandering from my shoulder down my arm.

"You know what I'd really like to do right now?" He asked.

"Hmm?"

"Id like to find some ways to take your mind off of all this, and I bet I'd be good at it."

No doubt in my mind he would be.

When I looked up at him, he was smiling and lowered his mouth to mine.

The kiss was sweet, but short, just long enough to wake up every nerve ending in me.

"But I can't." He said on a sigh "I'm working today."

But he didn't release me, instead his left hand had gone from my arm to my side and he was drawing lazy circles with his finger.

"You could be late." I decided, pulling his face towards me once more.

He responded to my kiss, and just like that, the kiss was the only thing I could think about. Lots of tongue, heat welling in the right places.  
I let my hand slide down from his face over his chest down to his abdomen and bunched his shirt in my fist to pull it out of his pants.

His hand grabbed mine, gently but firm.

"I already am late." He said softly. "I just came by to check on you, but you were in the shower, and…"

He kissed me on the head and stood up.

"I'm sorry, I have to go."

I couldn't quite hide my disappointment.

"My mind is not off the subject yet…" I tried.

He smiled at that and shook is head slightly.

"I know, and I promise I'll try again later on, OK? I really have to work."

And with that, he bent down, kissed my forehead and stroked my cheek. "I'll be back!"

I grimaced. That was one of my lines, I could do the Schwarzenegger accent and all.

The door closed behind him and I let out the air in a big whoosh.

That was the second time he had done this to me, and I started to see a pattern. I wanted to accept that he had his responsibilities, but I couldn't help feeling rejected.

For lack of anything better, I turned to a candy bar from my bag of goodies for comfort.

Breakfast and pick-me-up rolled into one.

I wanted to think about my crappy situation some more and maybe come up with solutions, but my sugar-high mind just didn't seem in the mood.

It all seemed kind of senseless anyway, what were my options one way or the other? Better to save the thinking for another day.

I emptied my coffee, gathered up the trash and put it away, and then I plopped down on the bed on my stomach and remoted the TV on.

Now that I was fully awake, the bedspread felt kind of scratchy under my bare arms, but I didn't want to crawl under it fully clothed. So I stripped down to my underwear, pulled back the covers and resumed watching TV.

I must have dozed off because the last thing I remembered was some daytime talk show, and then there was this vibrating buzz again.

The cell phone, making the nightstand and everything on it hum.

Excitement rushed through me at the thought of the caller. After all, only one person had the number.

"Make up your mind yet?" Ranger asked, by way of greeting.

I rolled my eyes.

"About my color scheme? Yeah, I figure I'm more of a spring than a summer really, so I need to overhaul my wardrobe."

Silence from the other end. Hey, I thought it was pretty funny!

Sandra humor.

"Get decent, I'll be there in 5." And he disconnected.

"Oh, OK, see you then, bye!" I said to the dead line as I glared at the phone in my hand. That was proper phone etiquette where I came from.

I turned the TV off and was just about to get up to get my clothes on when hell broke loose.

It was one of those moments that happen really quickly, but at the same time seem to go in slow-motion, like an action scene in the Matrix.

Glass shattered and sprayed out into the room, and I instinctively covered my face with my arms.

I thought I saw something fly through the window, and the next thing I heard was a 'crash' from something heavy landing and then a 'phoumph'.

Whatever had smashed the window had shattered upon impact and caught fire, flames were spreading across the carpet and began to lick up the curtains.

Panic rose up from my stomach, I jumped up on the bed, but then I was paralyzed as I stared at the spreading flames.

I was thinking 'Run! Hide! Do something!', but my body wouldn't oblige.

Still standing on my bed, my brain finally processed what my eyes were transmitting: the fire was quickly filling up the front part of the room, and blocking the exit.

It had not yet spread to the bed, but it was quickly getting there and I had only one way to go.

I finally gained control of my body and scrambled off the bed, but my foot caught in the sheet and I fell hard on the floor, chin first.

My first thought was that I had knocked out all my teeth as I tasted copper and stars were dancing in front of me. I wiped my mouth and my hand came away bloody, but when I ran my tongue over my teethe they all seemed to be in place.

Then my breath caught in my throat and I started coughing; I had inhaled a lungful of smoke.

That brought me to my feet again and I made for the bathroom as fast as I could while almost doubling over with coughing fits.

I slammed the door shut and bent over, inhaling nonsmoky air.

Tears were streaming down my face from the strain of coughing, I was sweating from every pore and shaking uncontrollably.

I tried to keep the panic under lid to prevent fear from taking over, crying and screaming would not get me out of here.

There was a loud bang from the bedroom and smoke was starting to curl under the door.

"The window!" I cried out, yanking the shower curtain from its hoops in an effort to get to the window behind the tub.

Whenever I had taken a shower, I had noticed the window, but more in a subconscious way. It was there, but I didn't look at it.

Now, it was the only way out, and I blindly shoved it open.

It opened easily enough, but my room was on the ground floor, and white metal bars were running vertically from top to bottom of the window every 5 inches or so. Behind them lay safety in the form of a macadam parking lot.

I sobbed as I grabbed two bars and yanked. They wouldn't budge. I started shaking them, screaming, crying, panicking. I yelled 'Help' at the top of my lungs whenever I could think straight between mindless screams.

I don't know how long I stood there, yanking and screaming as the room filled with smoke and not enough air was coming in through the open window.

I barley registered a metallic 'clang'; I was in sensory overload from the inferno sounds around me and the panic in me.

Then the bars fell back and dragged me halfway out the window, through a spray of falling concrete pebbles, as I was still holding on to them.

Strong arms grabbed me moments later and lifted me effortlessly all the way out, I thought I heard sirens wailing in the distance, and I collapsed against a broad chest, embraced by the arms that had lifted me to safety.

My eyes were still closed as I was lifted off the ground and carried, while I struggled to stay awake against the overwhelming desire to just fall asleep.

"Stay with me.", a voice pleaded close to my ear, and I was put onto firm ground once more.

I forced my eyes open and looked straight at Ranger, inches from my face, holding me upright in the open cargo space of his SUV.

"Are you OK?" He asked, his eyes taking in my appearance.

I may have nodded, but I wasn't sure, I was numb with gratitude and the realization that I wasn't going to die.

Ranger produced a blanket and wrapped it around me, his hands holding it in place.

The sirens grew closer and before long, a fire truck was blocking my view of the motel. Firemen were bustling about, there was yelling and people started appearing to get a good look at the spectacle.

Probably, the same scene was playing out in the front.

I was watching it all from a distance, as if staring at a screen.

"Let's get the formalities over with and get you cleaned up." Ranger said, his voice drifting through to me as if he was far away.

"Lin?" He tried again.

Police cars had arrived and a uniformed cop was making his way over to us.

Ranger shook me gently until I lifted my eyes up to him.

"Yeah." I said, not sure if I was agreeing to his suggestion or assuring him I was OK.

The cop took my name and my version of what happened down, and I didn't know how I was holding on to my make-believe persona when I told him my details. It later occurred to me that he had asked simple questions that required one-word answers; he must have had some experience with traumatized witnesses.

Ranger never left my side, but his expression was unreadable.

When I was asked if I had any ideas who may have started the fire, I shook my head no, and that was the truth. I may have had a suspicion, but I couldn't back it up and I had never seen anyone.

The cop closed his notepad, thanked me and asked how he could get in touch with me for any follow-up questions.

I opened my mouth to give him my number when it hit me: Everything I had was gone. My purse, my wallet, my cell phone; it had all been in my room, along with all the clothes I had bought, except for the black cotton camisole and bikini panties I was wearing.

Ranger pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it over.

"Call this number if you need to talk to her."

The officer seemed satisfied with this information and excused us with a nod. "We'll be in touch." He said and left.

I slumped against Ranger and he held me.

The adrenaline my body had been producing in overload was slowly starting to ebb off, and it left nothing but exhaustion behind.

Black smoke was still billowing skywards and hoses were pumping arcs of water at the building when Ranger lifted me to my feet and led me around the car to the passenger side. I felt like a marionette, not sure if my legs would support me should Ranger let go.

I didn't need to worry, he placed me in the passenger seat like a baby and buckled me in.

My eyelids were growing heavy by the time he was settled next to me and cranked the engine over, and I don't remember anything after the second turn when the noise from the fire engines and voices subsided and the only sound was the hum of the car.

I woke up when Ranger's hair brushed against my forehead; he had one arm under my knees and the other under my armpit as he was lifting me out of the car.

We were in the garage of the Rangeman building.

I wanted to say that I felt OK to walk by myself, but talking seemed too much of an effort right then and being in his arms gave me a sense of safety that I couldn't remember ever feeling before.

Ranger carried me into the elevator, and much later, I would wonder how he had opened the door or pressed the buttons with me in his arms, but right then, my mind was blank.

When the elevator doors opened, a woman dressed in scrubs was awaiting us and Ranger followed her down a corridor with bare gray walls, matching tile floor and numerous doors on both sides.

We went through a door and Ranger placed me on a cod.

He brushed my hair from my forehead and smiled at me.

"You'll be OK."

"Thank you." I croaked, my voice hoarse from smoke and screaming. His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer and then he straightened.

I saw him talk to the woman briefly and he was gone.

"Hi, I'm Nick." The woman said as she was snapping on surgical gloves. She had friendly brown eyes and a professional smile. Her black hair was tied to a knot in the back and she wasn't wearing any make-up or jewelry.

"I'm the resident nurse here and I'll be taking care of you."

I nodded.

She parted the blanket and studied me.

"Any pain? Where does it hurt?" she asked.

"I think I'm OK." I pressed out, I couldn't feel any acute pain beyond the overall ache. My entire body felt sore, but no part stood out.

Nick nodded at that but didn't look convinced. She turned her attention to the cart next to the cod and armed herself with some gauze and a small bottle.

"This may sting a little." She cautioned as she dabbed the drenched gauze over my upper lip and nose.

She repeated this procedure up and down my body, and I realized I was covered in scratches and sores that looked like rug burn.

I tried to go to my 'happy place', but the sandy beach picture just wouldn't fine-tune before my inner eye. Instead, the day's events started replaying, as if I was watching a video of it.

The feeling that 'Soon' had arrived started nagging me. I had received the note about a day ago and had come pretty close to being as dead as Moreno.

'But you aren't dead. Get a grip!' a reasoning inner voice spoke up.

While this was true, I didn't know how well I would have fared without Ranger's help.

Timing had definitely been on my side that time.

Nick finished disinfecting my wounds and gave me another once-over.

"Do you feel up to taking a shower? I can dress the deeper scratches afterwards, if you like."

She said, as she helped me into a sitting position.

I felt sweaty and grimy, but part of me wanted to forego a shower and head straight to bed.

"If you prefer, I can wash you here." Nick suggested.

God no! If I was to get clean, it would be at my own hands. Or possibly Ranger's, but a sponge bath by a female nurse was definitely not appealing.

"I'll shower, I'm fine." I pressed out, testing my legs' ability to hold my weight.

I stood up slowly and let Nick wrap the blanket around me for the short walk across the corridor to the shower.

It was a dorm-style washroom with sinks lined up at one wall, a couple of stalls at the other, and an arch into a room containing a line of showers with privacy partitions between them.

On the shelf across from the showers, someone had piled up towels, a basket of toiletries and a stack of black clothes.

Nick left me after I had assured her I would be okay on my own.

I peeled off my underwear, grabbed soap and shampoo from the basket and stepped under the shower, adjusting the water from scorching hot to ice cold and eventually to lukewarm.

It took a while to get clean and I winced every time I got soap into an open wound.

When my hair was washed and rinsed and my skin was all pink and non-sooty, I sat down on the floor and let the water rain down on me.

The room was all fogged up when I finally turned off the water and grabbed a towel.

When I was somewhat dry, I inspected the pile of clothes.

Socks, pants, a t-shirt and a bra and panties were neatly folded, everything was black and looked brand new.

The pants were a size too big and the bra struggled to keep my c-cups restrained, but I was fully clothed once again.

I shook my head and ran my fingers through my hair by way of styling, I didn't want to see myself in the mirror just yet.

Ranger was leaning against the wall opposite the washroom door when I stepped out.

His arms were crossed over his chest as he pushed himself off the wall and walked over to me.

We were now dressed alike, black on black, except I was missing combat boots and weaponry fit for a military coup.

"Feel better?" He asked, and I thought I heard genuine concern in his voice, so I attempted a smile as I answered.

"Much. Is there food?" Now that I had had time to calm down, I was starving.

Ranger laughed, relieved maybe, and he took my elbow.

"Let's have Nick look you over one more time now that she can actually see you, then we'll eat."

I got an uneasy feeling out of nowhere.

"And talk?"

"That too." He confirmed. I knew he wouldn't let me off the hook that easily.

I really did feel much better after the shower, and Nick only plastered some tape on the larger cuts and put ointment on others, nothing needed stitching or bandaging.

For as long as I can remember, I have been getting scratches, cuts and bruises with the best of them, but I had never been seriously injured, I have never had a broken bone. Apparently, I was continuing the tradition.

Ranger waited for Nick's OK before he helped me up and led me out of the room towards the elevator, as if he expected me to go all brave and refuse treatment, when I felt more like a damsel in distress than anything.

"What time is it?" I interrupted the silence as we stepped into the elevator and Ranger waved his key fob in front of a sensor.

"Almost five." He relayed and pressed the 7 button.

My heart sped up. The Bat Cave! It had to be, Ranger had to 'unlock' it before he pressed the button.

In spite of my overall weariness, excitement rushed trough me.

I was tired and battered but I wasn't dead! The thought of me and Ranger in his inner sanctum had me wide-awake.

Sure enough, as the doors opened, we were facing a small, well-lit anteroom with a single door directly in front of us.

Ranger did his security pad thing, keyed the door open and held it for me for me.

I stepped into the foyer and wasn't surprised to find a sideboard to my right with a vase of flowers and a small tray on it.

Ranger turned the light on with a switch on his right and placed his keys in the tray. Then he took his utility belt off and put it next to the tray.

He put a hand in the small of my back and nudged me forward.

Yup, it all seemed familiar. Not exactly as I had imagined it, but just the way it had been described in the books. Beyond the foyer was the living room and the kitchen was on the right.

By now I had come to expect this, strangely enough. I didn't know when I had stopped having 'Holy Shit!' moments at every similarity, but I would have been shocked to find myself in an all-black, all-bed bachelor pad instead of Ranger's apartment on the seventh floor of his office building.

The dining table was set for two, covered bowls and another vase with flowers stood between two plates, silverware and glasses.

"Would you like a drink before dinner?" Ranger's voice made me jump, I didn't know he was so close behind me.

He put a protecting arm around my waist, as if he was afraid I was going to faint from fright, and I felt it was worth the initial shock for the reward his arm provided.

"Again, can I offer you a drink?" He asked softly, his voice close to my ear.

I cleared my throat and took a step forward.

"Gin and tonic?" A drink sounded great!

The corners of his mouth quirked up slightly.

"Beer or Bourbon?"

"Bourbon." I decided "And beer with dinner."

This earned me a real smile.

He turned his back to me while he was getting a bottle and glasses out of a kitchen cabinet, and I was mesmerized by the movement of his muscles under his tight shirt.

An few hours ago, I would have laughed at the idea of ever feeling anything besides confusion or fear. Now the fire, my lost possessions and my achy body were becoming a distant memory.

I marveled at the air of safety and protection that seemed to emanate from Ranger, surrounding me.

Now I was going to have a drink on a nearly empty stomach and I that suddenly didn't seem like a good idea anymore, his arm on me had felt much too comfortable.

Ranger returned with our drinks and motioned towards the dining table.

We sat down and I took a sip from my glass. Then I coughed. I never drank whisky straight and I had taken a sip like I was drinking soda.

Ranger tapped my back, not quite able to mask his grin.

"You all right?"

"Sorry." I murmured, clearing my throat one more time. I could feel the liquid pool in my stomach and spreading its warmth. Good stuff.

Ranger got up and returned moments later with water, filling up the large empty glasses on the table and I drank half of mine until I felt the scratching in my throat subside.

He uncovered the bowls and spooned food onto my plate before helping himself to some.

I looked at my plate; green beans and chicken breast and roasted onions.

My stomach rumbled as the smell wafted up to my nostrils, and I could see Ranger smile again out of the corner of my eye, so I dug in.

The food was delicious, I barely resisted licking my plate when I was done.

We ate in silence, but I could feel Ranger's eyes on me from time to time. Since I couldn't come up with anything to say, I kept my head down and focused on eating.

After dinner, Ranger gathered up the plates and carried them to the sink. I was half-expecting him to return with dessert.

Instead, he brought the whisky bottle back with him, refilled our glasses and took his with him into the living room.

That probably meant we were going to move on to the talking part I was trying to avoid.

I took a sip of the burning booze for courage and followed him.

Ranger sat on a black leather couch, one leg angled off the floor in a relaxed position.

There was a small glass end table next to him in the corner and an identical leather couch next to it creating an L shape, a glass coffee table completed the sitting area.

I hesitated for a moment and then took a seat on the second couch rather than next to Ranger.

What I really wanted was to sit on his lap, but I was too afraid at where I might take it from there. Ranger fascinated me as much as he intimidated me, and I found that mixture more and more irresistible.

"Is what you told the cops true?" He said without preamble.

I took a deep breath, more to force my mind away from Ranger thoughts than to think of an answer.

"For the most part." I said on a shrug.

Ranger raised an eyebrow and inclined his head almost imperceptibly rather than asking me to elaborate on my statement.

"I forgot to tell you something." I chewed on my lower lip in an effort to find the best way to tell him about the note and the photos. I didn't know why I hadn't told him the night before, it just hadn't come up.

He listened to my description of the photos without reaction.

"So, since the note said 'Soon', and the fire was this afternoon, I believe the person that sent the note set the fire."

"And?" Ranger took a sip of his bourbon.

"But since I don't know who sent the note, I didn't tell the cop about it."

"Where are the photos now?"

"With Morelli, at the crimes lab."

"So they didn't burn?"

"No, and there's something else…"

I told him about Jeremy Nagel and Jess' friend with the same name and how that could be a possible connection.

But when I said it out loud now it seemed less plausible than before.

Ranger let me finish without interrupting, his expression once again unreadable. Or maybe I just didn't know him well enough to get an impression from him.

I sat back and took another sip. I was starting to like Bourbon.

While I had used my hands to gesture along with my story and had crossed and uncrossed my legs several time since I had sat down, the only movement from Ranger was the up and down movement when he led his glass to his lips. He was the picture of calm while I was fidgeting nervously, my earlier tiredness forgotten.

"What do you think?" I finally asked, unable to stand the silence any longer.

"I think you should stay here for the night."

"Yes, but…"

"We'll talk about it in the morning."

"I thought we were talking about it now." I argued, confused.

And what did he mean, 'stay here'? Here, here? In the Bat Cave? With him?

"I need to check some things, talk to some sources. I'll have more information tomorrow." He said, getting up.

"I have a room ready for you downstairs. You need to get some rest. Come on, I'll show you."

Oh. Downstairs. In the troops slash guest quarters. That made sense, what had I been thinking? That Ranger would insist on guarding my body by not letting it out of his reach? It was time to get real.

My emotions were probably just rattled from the excitement earlier, I was imagining sparkage and attraction were none existed. Or at least weren't reciprocated.

And probably, I had read Joe just as wrongly. I wasn't Stephanie Plum; hot men weren't lining up to risk their life for me just to gain my affection.

I had become part of Ranger's job and he was performing it.

I got up with a sigh.

"Do I get to take the bottle?"

"No."


	13. Chapter 13

Lucky 13 it is.

If you're reading this, I hope you're enjoying it.

All feedback is appreciated.

I know I'm taking a lot of liberties in my storyline, I hope you don't mind too much.

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG13 for language, adult situations and whatnot

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters, and I'll probably give them back good as new

Out of my Mind

Chapter 13 

The ringing phone woke me up at 6:30, as the clock radio next to it on the bedside table was quick to inform me.

By the second ring, I had my eyes open. By the third, I had gotten over my temporary disorientation and picked up the receiver.

"I'm here." What kind of way was that to answer a phone? My voice sounded like I smoked two packs a day.

"Good to know." It was Ranger. I could feel him smile on the other end. "Rise and shine, I'll be at your door in 30 minutes."

"But…"

"There are clothes for you in the bathroom. And this time, there are shoes, too."

And he disconnected. Honestly, would it kill him to say goodbye?

I did not get to take the bottle of Bourbon with me the night before. Ranger had accompanied me down to the fourth floor and had shown me into a studio apartment. He had explained the intercom features of the phone to me so I'd know what to dial if I needed anything. I had not embarrassed myself by asking him to define 'anything', and I was still proud of that.

Ranger had then suggested I'd get some rest and had hugged me goodnight. A hug was a good sign, I decided. I didn't hug my customers, I hugged friends.

The apartment was furnished with functionality in mind, no knickknacks or decorations, the color scheme was taupe, white and brown.

A small foyer led from the entrance to a kitchenette in one corner with a small square table and two chairs in front of it.

Next to the dining area was the living section with a loveseat, a coffee table and a small entertainment center that held the TV and a DVD player.

The bedroom was in an alcove and held a queen-sized bed, two nightstands and a closet.

Off the bedroom was the small bathroom that I now dragged my tired butt into.

I hadn't thought I would be able to sleep with my mind going at warp speed, lying in a strange bed all by myself.

But apparently, I had been out like a light, I didn't remember any tossing and turning.

As promised, clothes had been left for me. They were sitting on the toilet cover, since the room was too small for any other surface. A pair of CAT boots sat under the sink. I checked the size. 8.5. Uncanny.

I tossed the lot through the door onto the bed and started my morning routine.

Without even my emergency supply of makeup from my purse, I was forced to go au naturel, which put a big dent in my self-esteem but couldn't be helped. Best not to dwell on the absent purse.

After the shower and hair-drying thing, I got dressed in the new clothes and I realized this black-on-black thing really had its advantages. You'd never have to worry about matching colors.

Of course, you could never have a cat either, or else you'd be lint-rolling constantly. I didn't think RangeMan kept a lot of cats around though.

Interestingly enough, this new set of clothes fit exactly, pants, bra and all, and along with the matching shoe size, that had me curious. How did anyone know these things about another person? It's not like my old clothes had been lying around for reference. It would be tough for me to find out, too. There was no subtle way to ask, "How did you know my bra size?"

I had just finished tying my boots when there was a rap on the door.

"I'm coming!" I yelled unnecessarily as I snatched the windbreaker that came with the clothes package off the bed. In my own apartment, it took me more than five steps to get from the bedroom to the front door, so I usually announced my approach.

I pulled the door open and almost collided with Ranger, he was that close to standing in the door frame.

"Good to know." He said again, as calm as earlier, and I got the impression I was amusing him.

There was definitely an almost smile on his lips.

"Good morning." I said because I didn't have a witty comeback, and pulled the door closed behind me. Ranger head moved a little, a suggestion of a nod, but he didn't return my greeting. Maybe he had greeting phobia, goodbyes included. Or maybe he just didn't consider them cool.

I knew it wasn't a military thing, because my dad had been in the Army and if you didn't greet him or made your exit properly, he'd remind you in no uncertain terms. Maybe I'd get to bring it up if I ever had a personal conversation with Ranger. Probably, I'd get way too nervous if there was no 'business' conversation to hide behind, but it was nice to have dreams.

We turned towards the elevator and I was torn between asking Ranger where we were going and waiting for him to speak.

I decided to give patience a try and bit my lower lip to keep quiet.

If we were going back to his apartment, it would have been easier for him to just ask me to come up, but maybe he didn't like the thought of me wandering around by myself.

Wherever we were going, I hoped it involved coffee. If I don't get my caffeine fix within two hours of waking up, I can get really cranky.

We didn't ride up, we took the elevator down to the garage, and Ranger still hadn't said anything by the time he beeped the black Porsche open.

Fine, I'd play along. I was determined to wait for him to speak first, even though I felt like a preschooler playing a game.

Sitting close to Ranger was bound to make me nervous, and that meant I had to talk. The more excited I get, the more I talk; it's a thing. But for now, I was holding my ground.

I distracted myself by checking out the funny colors the bruises on my arms had turned into. The scratches were a nice touch; I figured I would be able to pull off anything from victim of domestic violence to car crash survivor. At the rate I was going, there wouldn't be much intact skin left on me by the end of the week.

I gasped. The end of the week? How long had I been here? I had totally forgotten to put some effort into calling Jess, she would have to be worried sick or mad as all hell by now. And how long exactly had I asked Sean to feed Riley?

Ranger turned his head towards me.

"You okay?"

Ha, I had won! He had spoken first! I had gasped, that didn't count. Yes, my mind works in weird ways.

"I'm fine." I replied as I was doing the math on what day it was and how I could remember to call my friend as soon as I'd get a chance. I would have to look up her number, but I was bound to run into an Internet connection at some point.

"We 're meeting a friend for breakfast." Ranger said, apparently back in a talking mood.

"Uh-huh."

I could have asked who or why or where, but I was bound to find out all that sooner rather than later, so I let Ranger get back into his zone.

A half hour later, we pulled into a 'Denny's' parking lot.

I stared though the windshield at the sign, then I stared at Ranger. I loved Denny's, just like every other type of greasy-bad-for-you fast food, but it seemed very un-Ranger.

"Wasn't my idea." He almost-shrugged, reading my mind.

When we entered, most patrons looked up from their meals to check us out. Well, to check Ranger out. I couldn't blame them, he wasn't someone you saw every day. I was betting the women were wanting to be with him, the men wanted to be him. Or maybe I was projecting my own opinion on Ranger, but there were definitely a lot of looks. Not a lot of people running dressed all in black.

Ranger scanned the crowd for a beat and then bypassed the hostess by making a beeline to a table in a corner.

I didn't know what he had spotted, since I didn't have the advantage of his height, so I just followed him.

A guy looked up from his bacon and eggs when we approached.

He was medium height, medium built, and everything else about him was medium, too. He had the kind of face you don't notice all that much in the first place, and then forget a minute after you saw it. Gray eyes, mousy-brown hair cut short, no facial hair.

He locked eyes with Ranger and nodded.

Ranger motioned for me to sit down, so I slid onto the bench, sitting across from medium guy, and Ranger sat down beside me. Our legs touched, and I sucked in some air before I could help myself.

There were no introductions. Ranger waited for the waitress to serve our coffee and put down our menus, then he asked "What've you got?"

Medium guy chewed and swallowed and put his silverware down.

He reached under the table and produced a manila envelope, handing it to Ranger.

I was trying to figure out why I had been brought along, since my input wasn't requested. But since I didn't know what to say either, I put milk in my coffee and drank it silently. I had coffee, life wasn't so bad anymore.

"Any word?" Ranger asked.

"Nothing new." Medium guy said.

"Thank you."

Medium guy looked up at this, pushed his plate away and got up.

Either I had missed a big chunk of the conversation or else they had been communicating telepathically.

I looked at Ranger expectantly.

The waitress returned and took our orders. Ranger ordered a grapefruit and I took the Grand Slam breakfast.

"That stuff will kill you," Ranger remarked and I almost giggled. One of his signature lines!

"Well?" I tried again when the waitress had left.

"Well what?"

"What was this all about? What's in the envelope?"

"Not here."

Okay, I accepted, this no-talking or barely-talking thing wasn't for me. I hated having to ask for every tiny bit of information. When I opened my mouth, I said everything there was to say.

Maybe Ranger had taken a correspondence course somewhere, along the lines of "How to drive women crazy by saying as little as possible".

"Morelli called." Ranger said, pulling me away from my musings.

"And?" See, I was catching on. What I wanted to ask was "What did he say, does he need me to call him back?"

"There was another murder last night that looked like the Senor's handwriting. Morelli wanted to make sure you were safe."

Joe had called to check on me? That was nice. Maybe he did care? Wait…

"Why did he call you?"

Ranger just looked at me, as if the answer was obvious.

Of course! Mental head slap. Ranger had given the cops his number to call. So Joe had probably gotten in touch with the team at the fire.

"Did he ask for me?"

"Told you, he…"

"Yes, yes," I interrupted "But didn't he ask to talk to me?"

"No."

All right then. Joe's concerns had been quieted after speaking to Ranger only. Just business. Bummer.

Our food arrived and my mood brightened. I could always rely on heaps of bacon, eggs and pancakes to make me feel better.

Whenever I moved, my leg would touch Ranger's. When I picked up my knife, my elbow brushed against his. I was trying really hard to stifle a moan and shoved some egg into my mouth.

I couldn't bear the silence any longer, it made me even more nervous.

If the real questions would have to wait, I'll go with small talk. I could small talk with the best of them, weather was my specialty.

"Say, do you know Stephanie Plum?" Where'd that come from? That's not what I had wanted to ask! It's what I wanted to know, yes, but why didn't I find a subtler way?

"Yeah, why?" Ranger didn't look up from his grapefruit.

I figured he was studying me out of the corner of his eye though. Or maybe I was paranoid.

"Do you work with her?"

"Used to. She's Vinnie's cousin."

"Is she dead?" He had talked about her in the past tense!

He looked up and his eyes met mine.

"She was a bounty hunter, right? Did she get killed chasing an FTA?" My imagination at work again.

Rangers mouth curved into a smile, it even reached his eyes.

"No, she was doing the filing for Vinnie for a while. It didn't work out. She moved away after she got married."

Come again? There was no bombshell bounty hunter in this version of Trenton?

What the fuck? Had I missed a dimension jump on my way over here?

"Where is she now? I thought Lula did the filing? Or is Melvin still there?"

I had Ranger's full attention now, but I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

"Why are you so interested in her?"

Good question. Because she is supposed to be here, this is her world. Ranger and Morelli were in love with her, or something, and their world revolved around hers. I couldn't find a way to say this though, at least none that wouldn't send me straight to the nut house.

"Just curious." And I cut some bacon. Yeah, real smooth. Even I wouldn't have believed me.

"Lula does all kinds of things for Vinnie." Ranger said slowly. "Sometimes even filing."

"You mean, they're a couple?" My food fell out of my mouth. Anything seemed possible now, with the way things were going.

Ranger barked a laugh at that.

"No, they're not a couple! Lula wouldn't touch Vinnie with a 10-foot pole."

Oh, thank god for small favors. It was not as twisted as I had begun to fear.

Stephanie wasn't in this picture, but Lula, Vinnie and Connie seemed to be who they were supposed to be.

"Sometimes she helps Connie out with the preliminary phone work, sometimes she goes after low-bond FTA's. Sometimes she does filing."

I was willing to leave it at that, but Ranger wasn't done.

"How do you know them?"

I shrugged and faked peculiar interest in my hash browns. Then I remembered my not-so-cool-as-of-late bounty hunter persona and added "They came up when I ran a search on Vinnie's office."

Strangely enough, that seemed to work, Ranger took a sip of coffee.

Big mental sigh. Saved by a fib.

But I resolved to keep my mouth in check in the future. I didn't know how much luck I'd have with that since Ranger seemed to be able to short-circuit my brain with the slightest of touches, but I was going to try.

The truth was, if I knew what was good for me, I'd ask for a ride back to Jeremy's car and head north until I'd hit Manhattan. Then I'd return the car and get on a plane back home, leaving Trenton as far behind as possible.

Unfortunately, I had licked blood. I had met Joe and Ranger and my hormones (or my stupidity) wouldn't allow me to do what was good for me. I was hooked. I had even created this excuse where I might still be a target if I left, so it was best to stay where I could be protected.

My common sense-self never needed a lot of persuasion from my stupid-self.

We finished our breakfast and Ranger paid the bill.

It had occurred to me while I was in the shower that morning that, while Ranger had been too nice to point it out, staying at RangeMan had pretty much been my only option.

I didn't know anyone in the area, I had no money or credit cards. For the first time since I'd moved out of my parents' house after school, I totally depended on another person. The thought had scared me at first, but since the person was Ranger, it wasn't all that bad.

True, my cool image was shattered. Who had ever heard of a kick-ass bounty hunter that couldn't replace cars, weapons, and credit cards within hours? Didn't they usually work as a whole team?

Whatever, I didn't have a team, and I had to focus on keeping my story straight.

We left the restaurant, got back into the car and took off.

Ranger checked his rearview mirror a couple of times, and after a few turns, he parked in the parking lot of a Walgreen's.

He killed the engine and picked up the manila envelope off his lap.

"The guy in the diner was Ed." He said. "If there's anything to know about the Senor's interest in you, he'd be able to pick it up."

That was pretty much what I had figured. Except for the Ed part. Medium guy looked more like a John.

There were several letter-sized sheets of paper and a bunch of photos on the envelope.

Ranger read through the pages and shuffled through the pages.

"You look cute in that outfit." He finally said, handing me the pictures.

The picture on top was of Ranger and me standing by his Porsche, it must haven been taken when he had picked me up the other night.

I was wearing my gray-on-gray rangeresque bounty hunter outfit I had been so proud of. And Ranger thought it looked cute? I knew it wasn't very progressive of me, but I liked being thought of as cute. Cute wasn't 'sexy', but guys usually didn't use 'cute' to describe kittens either.

There was a picture of the mangled beetle, and a close-up of its plates.

Then a couple of photos of a man that looked like Moreno talking to a blond woman. The pictures had been taken from a distance, like with a telephoto lense, and their quality was poor. But I didn't think the woman could be mistaken for me, we only shared a hair color.

Three more pictures of Moreno in his bathtub. They brought back the panic I had felt when I made the discovery, and I quickly gave the stack back to Ranger.

"Anything?" I asked, indicating the papers.

"It looks like they're still trying to check your connection to Nagel. Must not be focusing on the possibility that there's a harmless guy with the same name around. In the meantime, they think they can scare you away. They don't know who you are, but they don't like you."

Go figure. I had pretty much gotten that message when my bed had caught fire. And I was scared, all right.

"Unfortunately, this confirms that the Senor is behind the note and the fire. Ed swiped the pictures when he was compiling the info."

Well now I knew.

"But what did I do to piss him off?"

"You found Moreno. He was supposed to disappear."

Just my luck. I randomly pick a file from the collection of FTA's and piss off a crime lord.

I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

Ranger shoved everything back into the envelope and turned the key in the ignition.

I put my hand on his arm.

This was bad timing, and it wasn't going to make sense, but I had to ask.

"Can I borrow some money?"

"What do you need?"

I looked at the Walgreen's storefront.

"Some…things."

I hoped he wouldn't make me give specifics. I wanted mascara, and I wanted eye shadow and I wanted my brand of deodorant. All details a little to intimate to share.

He turned off the car and dug in his pockets.

"Do you want me to come with?" He asked, holding out some bills.

I took the money and assured him I'd be fine. It had felt awkward to ask for money, but I had needs. They were immature and self-conscious, but I didn't care. If I was to be around Ranger, I needed to fell like I looked good.

I dashed through the store, filling my basket with all the essentials. RangeMan may have known my shoe size, but make-up hadn't been on the care package list. Imagine that.

I was rushing because I didn't want Ranger to change his mind and come looking for me, not really sure why. It wasn't like I was buying condoms or tampons. Buying those always made me feel self-conscious.

When I reached the register, I noticed Ranger had given me some 20's and a 50. What did he think I needed?

I got back into the car with my purchases and smiled.

"I'm ready." I announced, not quite sure what I was ready for.

Ranger started the Porsche and got back into traffic. I couldn't figure out if he was going back the way we had come or somewhere else, my mind had been elsewhere on the drive to the restaurant.

"Where are we going?"

"Got some things to check on at the office. Then we'll try to annoy some of the Senor's men."

Oh goodie. Something to really look forward to.

At least I'd have time to call Jess and put on my face, I wanted to look nice for the autopsy photos.


	14. Chapter 14

Here's the 14th chapter. I hope you're still with me. It's finally time to get a touch of her 'real' world!

Thank you so much for your feedback, I really appreciate it.

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG13 for language, adult situations and whatnot

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters, and I'll probably give them back good as new

Out of my Mind Chapter 14

We drove the rest of the way in silence. Ranger presumably in his zone and me alternating between utter confusion and trying not to stare at Ranger's muscle movements every time he shifted.

Rush hour was in full swing and traffic was heavy. So there was a lot of gear shifting.

I didn't mind the silence, I had too much on my mind.

The whole Senor mess had the potential of making sense, but I didn't know why Ranger had gotten involved and why he was helping me. I appreciated it immensely, since it allowed me to be with him and probably kept me alive, but I was dying to find out if his interests were purely business or if there was maybe a part of him that cared about me.

Of course I could always just ask him. Right after I'd ask how he'd known my bra size, probably.

When he had parked the car in RangeMan's underground garage and had turned the engine off, Ranger turned to me. I looked up from the plastic shopping bag I had been playing with.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

I swallowed. No easy way to answer that one. I thought I was a couple of county lines over from okay, on more than one level.

But I just nodded and got out of the car.

Ranger followed me and pressed the 4 button when we got into the elevator. OK by me, if I was to go back to my quarters, I needed some alone time anyway.

I walked a step ahead of Ranger with my head lowered. I couldn't remember a time when I had been this quiet for so long.

I reached for the doorknob on the apartment, and Ranger put a halting hand on my shoulder, turning me around.

"You'll be okay." He said softly, his hand tucking back my hair behind my ear and his thumb grazing my cheekbone, his eyes locked on mine.

It caught me off guard. The stoic Ranger I could learn to handle, the caring Ranger brought down my defenses.

Tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over, down my cheeks.

I didn't even know why I was crying, probably I just felt sorry for myself.

Ranger gathered me up in his arms and held me.

He was warm, and he smelled so good.

I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my face against his chest. I still had no control over my tears, they were in free flow.

He put his chin on my head and stroked my hair.

I didn't know how long we were just standing there, outside the closed apartment door. Neither of us saying anything.

After a final deep breath, I pushed myself away and fished a box of tissues out of the bag.

"I'm sorry." I apologized, blowing my nose.

"It's OK." He said. "I meant what I said, you'll be fine. I promise."

I looked up to find him smiling at me. His hand wiped away the last of the tears on my face.

"Take a time-out, I'll be back when I'll find something."

And he reached around me to open the unlocked door, pulled me around by my waist and pushed me inside.

I heard the door close behind me, and then I was alone.

Great. I was in Ranger's arms and all I could do was cry. He probably thought I was a helpless kitten in need of his protection.

I let out a sigh and collapsed onto the loveseat.

Although I had craved alone time, I realized what I really needed was time at home, my home. This apartment wasn't home, and there weren't any books or movies to distract me. There was no Riley to pet.

That reminded me…

I rushed into the bathroom, did the best I could with my make-up and hair, given my red-cried eyes, and left the studio for the fifth floor.

I took the stairs one flight up and four heads turned when I opened the fire door from the staircase: Two big guys in front of the monitors, Cal at a desk and Ranger, standing in the middle of the control room.

I felt the heat rushing to my face, I was probably beet-red.

"I…I need to use a computer." I said, but it had sounded more like I was looking for the ladies' room.

'Relax!' I tried to tell myself.

Cal looked at Ranger and turned towards me.

"Over here." He waved towards a wall of cubicles.

The novelty had worn off, the two guys turned back to face the monitors.

Cal motioned for me to take a seat in one of the cubicles and turned on the computer on the desk. He typed in a password and the desktop appeared.

"Do you need help?" He asked. Yes, in more ways than he could ever imagine.

"No, I think I'm OK, thank you." I managed as I opened up a browser.

Cal disappeared from my side.

I looked up Jess' number and wrote it down on a piece of paper.

There was a multiline phone on the desk next to the monitor, and I picked up the receiver.

It felt silly, but I didn't want to appear as if I took Ranger for granted.

"Is it OK if I make a phone call?" I asked, turning around.

I didn't know whom I had expected to answer, but Ranger stepped into my line of vision from behind the cubicle partition.

"Of course." He said, "Dial 9 to get out."

He glanced at my screen. Yahoo white pages probably didn't look interesting enough to warrant any questions, and he turned away.

I called Jess and got her answering machine. Of course, I realized. It was 10 AM on a weekday morning, Jess was at work. I left a message, apologizing for the long radio silence, telling her I was okay and would call her soon. Since I didn't know a number to leave, I left it at that and hung up.

Then I sent her an email for good measure, pretty much repeating what I had said on the phone. There was no way I could explain what had happened in the last few days, but the next time I'd see her, I would tell her everything from the beginning.

I also sent an email to my cat sitter Sean, telling him I'd be away a little longer than planned and could he please feed Riley.

It was Wednesday, and my boss didn't expect me back for another week and a half, so there was no need to contact him.

I managed to flinch only slightly when Ranger spoke up.

"Since you're here, do you want to run a few searches?"

He was standing directly behind me, I hadn't heard him approach.

"Sure." I agreed. How hard could this be? Couldn't be much different from googling fan sites.

"Ed suggested we check out a few people in addition to the regulars."

He placed a couple of file folders on the desk.

"Have you used MagGen before?"

Not only had I never used it, I had never even heard of it.

"The search engine?" I guessed, hoping I didn't sound too ignorant. "No."

Ranger pulled up a second chair and sat down next to me.

This was going to be tricky.

In the car, there was some space between us. In front of a monitor, it was hard not to touch or brush against each other.

I forced my eyes to the screen and my mind away from Ranger as he took over the mouse and opened a program.

He went over a few basics and I realized I hadn't been that far off: it was a template that you filled out with what you knew and the search engine would do the rest. This I could do.

I picked up the first folder and typed in the details.

Ranger had apparently decided to find out if I had gotten the hang of it, he stayed put.

I mistyped a couple of times because I was so nervous, and I was beginning to sweat. If he didn't leave soon I was going to lose what was left of my cool.

"What am I looking for?" I asked as I stared at the information on the screen.

Ranger leaned closer to point at a few keywords and I sucked in some air.

"You okay?" He asked, his eyes on me.

We were knee-to-knee, and now his shoulder was touching mine.

"I'm hot." I admitted, not knowing what else to say.

He smiled. It was probably 60 degrees in the control room and only I felt like it was 90.

"I have that effect on some people." He said, and my eyes grew wide. I was so busted.

He returned his eyes to the screen.

"Print out the first few pages, mark things like addresses, phone numbers, frequent hang-outs. Let me know when you're done."

And he got up and left.

I slumped in my chair. What the hell was wrong with me? 'I'm hot'? I had sounded like a schoolgirl! The time when he was helping to possibly save my life was not the time to get hot and bothered by his presence! He probably thought I was a complete idiot.

I thunked my head on the desk and closed my eyes, hoping to get a grip.

I counted to 10 and took a few deep breaths, and then I concentrated on the search again, hoping my little outburst had gone unnoticed.

It took about an hour to get all the necessary information. I printed it out on the little desktop printer and went over it with the highlighter I had found in one of the drawers.

All three guys had led similar lives. All of them were the complete opposite of what I was used to: They weren't married. They didn't own houses. They didn't spend their Saturdays picking up dry cleaning and washing their cars.

They had all been arrested more times than I cared to count; sometimes they had been convicted and had spent time in prison.

All of them were suspected to work for Najar, the Senor.

I signed off and picked up the printouts, looking for Ranger.

'This is what you've come to.' I berated myself 'You can't do one thing without turning to Ranger for help! Go home! You're in over your head. Give up!'

I felt like slapping myself to snap out of it. What I needed to find was encouragement, not the ass kicking my mind doled out.

Ranger was sitting behind a desk in the corner, working on a computer.

I squared my shoulders and walked over, putting my findings in front of him.

He picked up the pages and scanned over them.

"Fast work." He said and my heart sped up. Stupid heart!

"With these three we have a total of seven cages to rattle. You up for it?"

Given that I had never rattled any cages, the answer was probably no.

"Let's go." I said instead.

Ranger pointed towards a box on one of the desks in front of the monitors.

"There's equipment for you to get you outfitted. I'll be done here in a few minutes."

He put the printouts on his desk and turned back to his monitor.

I felt a little like saluting or saying something like 'Aye, aye', and I was glad I bit my tongue and turned towards the box before I did any of those things.

10 minutes later, we rolled out of the garage in the Porsche. I loved the Porsche. And I loved riding in the Porsche next to Ranger. I only wished we were on our way to a romantic evening together and not off to 'rattle some cages'.

I shifted in my seat trying to get comfortable. There were a lot of clip-ons on my belt. The cell phone was poking me from the left, a gun was bugging me on my right, and a stun gun and maglite were doing their best vibrator impression in the front. How did people do this on a regular basis? If it were me, I'd carry all that stuff in a purse. Unfortunately, there hadn't been a purse in the box, only things to clip on one's belt. Fortunately, I had only whined to myself about it.

Ranger had handed me the files in the order we were going to work them, and I read the first address out loud.

"I know where it is, right off Stark Street." Ranger said as he turned a corner.

Right, Stark Street. The location I had really been looking forward to exploring. Not.

'You're with Ranger.' I reminded myself 'You'd be safe walking into a guerilla war with him.'

And then there was the reminder to chill already, but I ignored it.

We spent all afternoon tracking down the seven guys. Two weren't at any of the addresses on the search, two said they had no idea what we were talking about and told us to go to hell (even with Ranger's persuasion techniques that made me slightly nauseous), and of the three guys I had looked up, only one had turned out to know anything at all, the others were too far down the ladder. Even the one guy important enough to be on the in, Julio Maradona, hadn't been helpful though, informing us that he didn't deal in petty stuff like car crashes and arson.

Ranger had done all the talking, and I had just looked on, trying to appear professional. I had a gun, dammit!

When we got back into the car after leaving Maradona, Ranger made some notes on all of the files and looked at me.

"I think that went well." He said and winked at me.

I didn't feel like we had learned anything, but I didn't know if I had just missed it or if Ranger was being sarcastic.

"Uh-huh." I replied neutrally, trying to get the maglite away from my pubic bone and pretending hot men winked at me all the time, especially when I was sitting next to them in their Porsche.

"Let's discuss this over food." Ranger suggested as he took his utility belt off and started the car.

I still wasn't very hungry after my mega-breakfast, but I wasn't going to pass on a chance for dinner with Ranger.

I took his lead and removed all the paraphernalia from my belt, unable to hide a relieved smile when it was all in the back.

"Comfy?" Ranger asked with a full-on smile. I hadn't noticed he had been watching me the whole time. I blushed and nodded and put my seatbelt on for distraction, staring straight ahead.

Ranger chuckled and finally put the car in gear. Now I was sure I amused him.

A few minutes later, Ranger parked the car in an unlit alley and we got out.

We weren't in the worst part of town I had seen that afternoon, but nor far from it either. Some windows were boarded up and some graffiti decorated walls.

I felt uncomfortable and stayed close to Ranger. He moved with total confidence in every environment I had seen him in.

Ranger led us back onto a street and then into a small restaurant with no more than ten tables with candles on them and a bar tucked in a corner. Only two of the tables were occupied, both by couples who didn't look up when we entered.

Soft guitar music was playing in the background.

It didn't look Mexican, and definitely not Italian or American, beyond that, I couldn't guess.

"Carlos!" A short Latino man behind the bar exclaimed, and he made his way over to us.

He hugged Ranger and talked a lot of Spanish. Ranger introduced me, I think, and the man hugged me and kissed my cheek. He then led us to a table in the back corner and held out a chair for me.

They talked for another minute or two, the smile never leaving Ranger's mouth. He was more relaxed than I had thought was possible.

"That's Juan Esteban." Ranger explained when we were alone "It's his restaurant, and it has the best Cuban menu this side of Miami."

Juan reappeared moments later with menus, sliced bread and a bottle of wine. He filled our glasses and put the bottle and bread on the table, then he said something that sounded like any girl of Ranger's was a friend of his, but I wasn't sure since my Spanish is very limited and Ranger didn't translate. In any case, it sounded positive and I smiled.

"Do you really think we made some progress today?" I asked when Juan had left.

Ranger studied the menu and almost-nodded.

"I don't feel like we've learned anything." I admitted.

"It's not about that. We stepped on some toes, we made a nuisance of ourselves. Word is bound to get back to the Senor. And if we're lucky, we pissed him off enough to make another move."

Oh, OK. Clearly, I had a lot to learn, even if I was just pretending I knew about bounty huntering.

I asked Ranger to order for me since the menu was in Spanish and I didn't want to ask him every other word.

He told Juan what we wanted and had a sip of his wine. My glass was almost empty. I needed to compensate!

"Do you come here often?" I asked as I took a look around. The two couples were deep in conversation, holding hands and smiling.

"From time to time. Juan is like family."

"Juan thinks I'm your girl."

"You picked that up, huh?" Ranger raised an eyebrow.

"He got that impression because you're the first woman I've ever brought here."

I wasn't sure what to make of that information. Was I special enough to be brought here or had he wanted to come here anyway, with or without me? Ranger didn't look like he was going to elaborate on it.

I emptied my glass and waited for Ranger to refill it rather than looking like a lush, trying real hard not to fidget too much.

"What about your girlfriend?" Oh.My.God. Of all the things to say…

"What about her?" Ranger picked up the bottle and filled up our glasses.

"Don't you take her here?"

"I don't have a girlfriend."

My joy at hearing this didn't overpower the need for the ground to open up and swallow me, I was so embarrassed. I may not have been an expert at the art of flirting, but I did know a lame line when I heard it, and I was feeding Ranger lame lines every chance I got. First of all, there had been no need to ask, but if I did need confirmation one way or the other, I could have found a cleverer way.

A woman returned with our meals at that point, and I was grateful for the interruption.

I couldn't identify what was on my plate, but I downed my wine and dug in anyway.

Anything to avoid eye contact!

I was hoping Ranger would let it slide, but no such luck.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

He seemed to really enjoy himself, I thought I saw a twinkle in his eye.

"Would you bring your boyfriend here?"

"Maybe." Not a lie, if I had one, I may have taken him here. Best to leave it at that.

"There's not a lot of information to be found about you, you could be married with four kids for all I know."

"You ran a check on me?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. He had probably typed my name into his search programs the day he I met him in Vinnie's office. Of course, whatever had come up had nothing to do with me, although it would be a kicker if there really was a bounty hunter by the name of Lindsay Taylor in Boston.

He smiled.

"Maybe."

I was confused. Again. If he had run a search, it must have raised a parade of red flags and he was more likely to pin me against a wall and question me than to wine and dine me at an intimate restaurant. The only other options were that he thought I was as good as he was and had erased all traces of me from public sources, or that he had figured out who I really was and enjoyed watching me dig myself deeper into the hole. If I had to guess, I'd pick door number 2. Only that didn't explain the date-like dinner either, so back to confusion.

The food was excellent. Spicy, but not burn-your-mouth hot; lots of cheese.

By the end of the meal, I had emptied four glasses of wine and Ranger had almost finished one.

I was not a heavy drinker, but I was OK with beer. Red wine was another story. It mostly made me do or say things I would regret later. But it had been the only drink on the table and I was desperate.

When the woman had cleared up the plates and Juan had brought us coffee, Ranger leaned back in his chair.

"Tomorrow, you move out."

I looked up. Was he really throwing me out on the street? And why after meeting part of his 'family', when he had had countless opportunities all day.

"While you're at RangeMan or with me, you're untouchable. But we need you out there, be visible. If we were successful today, we shouldn't have to wait too long for the next move."

I dug my fingernails into my palms to keep from screaming. I was so relieved. Ranger was still with the plan, and the plan was to lure out the bad guys.

And for a second there I had thought…best not to go there.

I nodded enthusiastically, not quite trusting my voice.

Whatever his reasons, Ranger was going to stick with me. And maybe I'd get another chance at convincing him I was not a complete idiot.

We got back to RangeMan a little after 8. The day had started so early and had involved so many emotions that I was exhausted.

Ranger walked me to the apartment.

"Thank you for dinner." I said. 'And for everything else' I should have added, but that would have sounded so cheesy.

He opened the door for me.

"You gonna be okay in here for tonight?"

If I said no, would I get to spend the night with him?

"I guess so…" I replied tentatively.

"I had Cal get you a laptop, so you don't have to ask for permission every time you need to use a computer."

"Thank you." My mind just didn't produce more words.

"I'll see you in the morning." He said, clearly ready to leave.

So I hugged him. What I really wanted to do was kiss him, but I hadn't had enough wine for that. Four glasses only gave me enough courage to hug.

Amazingly, Ranger hugged me right back and kissed my forehead.

I held on to him and smiled as I lifted my head to meet his eyes.

"Good night, Babe." He said as he released me, resting his hands on my shoulders for a beat.


	15. Chapter 15

I refuse all responsibility, the story has a mind of its own. I swear, I have no control over where it's going…stay with me!

Thank you so much for your reviews, you're awesome!

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG13 for language, adult situations and whatnot

Disclaimer: I made the whole thing up, I own none of JE's characters, and I'll probably give them back good as new

Out of my Mind Chapter 15

It was 2 o'clock in the morning. With a few interruptions, I had been staring at the ceiling for just about five hours.

The first thing I had done when Ranger had left was take a cold shower. I knew it was a cliché, but I couldn't come up with anything better. Well, it hadn't helped.

I had tried pacing for a while after I had been unable to find anything interesting on TV, and I had been surfing the Net. The only thing useful to come out of the latter was that I had a lot of my friends' phone numbers back. I had called information again to get Joe's number off his voicemail. I had tried calling Jess and had gotten her answering machine again. What I really wanted to do was talk to Joe, but I was too chicken to call him.

So I had gone to bed. Five hours ago. And I hadn't slept a wink.

Whenever I managed to push images of my burning motel room or a dead Moreno out of my head, they'd be replaced by the replay of the accident, when for a moment I had been sure I was going to die. And if that wasn't bad enough, I was sexually frustrated and felt rejected by two men, so their images kept coming up frequently as well.

I had a notepad and pen on the nightstand, in case I'd get any good ideas, for any of my issues, but it was blank.

Joe had promised to take my mind off of all my worries. Ranger had promised I'd be fine, and then he had called me 'Babe'. The Senor hadn't promised anything that I knew of, but had a mind to get me out of the way.

And as hard as I tried, I couldn't find anyone but me to blame for every single problem: I had called Joe, I had pursued Ranger, I had found Moreno.

I turned and grunted in frustration.

Blaming myself wouldn't resolve anything, nor would it help me fall asleep.

What if I woke up Ranger and asked him if he couldn't sleep either? That had always been funny in college. May not work for a guy that probably sleeps with a gun under his pillow though.

Still, the thought made me smile.

I didn't know when I had finally fallen asleep, but the phone woke me at 9:15.

"Yuh." I wasn't used to answering the phone first thing in the morning, and my voice was heavy with sleep.

"Hey sleepyhead, ready for some breakfast?"

Ranger's voice sounded way too cheerful. Since when did Ranger do cheerful?

"Mmm."

Actually, I was only ready for more sleep, but I would make a concession for coffee.

"Come up to the seventh floor, there's a card on your coffee table."

And he disconnected.

What the…?

I put the receiver back in its cradle and fell back, closing my eyes. I'd get up in just a minute.

The next thing I knew, the covers were flying off the bed. I yelped as the colder air swept over me and my eyes flew open.

Ranger was standing next to my bed, the comforter in one hand, the other fisted on his hips.

He was dressed in his usual black and wore a grin on his face.

I was too embarrassed to be angry, as his eyes wandered down my body, taking in my tank top and panties.

"What are you doing?" I tried to glare at him, but I could feel the color rise up in my cheeks.

"I called you an hour ago. Time to get up!" He said, the grin never leaving his mouth. Clearly, I was his entertainment section for the morning.

I didn't have a good comeback, and the covers were out of reach, so I got up and quickly hid in the bathroom.

Ranger was waiting for me in the sitting area when I emerged a half hour later. The clothes fairy had left yet another outfit for me, I was clean and dressed, and my hair was up in a ponytail. My make-up was supposed to look like I was hardly wearing any and was just a natural beauty, I hoped I was pulling it off.

He looked up when I entered "I liked your previous outfit better."

That remark didn't help with my blushing problem.

"I'm ready."

Ranger gestured at stuff on the coffee table.

"You left your goodies in my car."

"Thank you." What else could I say?

I busied myself with clipping on the gun and the cell phone, ignoring the stun gun and maglite. My waist didn't provide enough circumference to wear everything comfortably.

Ranger stood and looked at me.

"Now you're ready."

I let out a sigh. "Actually, I won't be ready until after my first cup of coffee." I even managed a smile for that.

He returned the smile and put a hand in the small of my back, pushing me towards the front door.

"You'll get your coffee."

He hadn't lied. There was coffee.

There was also a team of merry men around me, we were all in the conference room.

While they were focusing on setting up some surveillance, Ranger was double-tasking by explaining the day's plan to me.

"You move into the apartment. It's a furnished place with no security, and it's widely known the landlord rents it out to people who for one reason or another don't want to stay in a hotel. He's also known to not ask too many questions or run a credit check, it's strictly cash with him. We use the place as a safe house from time to time, but it's not likely anyone remembers the last time."

He put two keys on the desk before me. One was an apartment key, the other was a car key.

"I'll have your clothes packed and a car ready for you."

I was staring at the keys in front of me, trying to focus while the merry men were discussing security challenges of a completely different nature.

"Lin!" Ranger forced my eyes up by putting a finger under my chin. "Pay attention!"

No need to go all schoolteacher on me, I thought. "I am." I assured him "Apartment. Clothes. Car."

"Right…" He ran a hand through his hair.

"We will know where your car is at all times. Your cell phone is a tracking device as well, when you miss a checkpoint, we will activate it." He was pointing towards the cell phone on my hip, but stopped short of touching it.

"You'll also wear a panic button," he placed a gizmo resembling a small pedometer on the desk "When you activate it, we'll get to you within minutes."

I swallowed.

"Do you think all this is necessary?" If all this equipment was supposed to make me feel better, it failed; it would only make me paranoid.

"Can't hurt. There's no such thing as too much protection."

I disagreed on that, but didn't say anything.

"The apartment is completely wired. You will know if someone's been in there while you're out, and we'll know if someone's in there with you." He continued. "Do you have any questions?"

A lot, actually. But most of them didn't make sense.

"What do you want me to do?"

Way to think independently, Sandra.

"Just be yourself."

Not an easy task, I didn't know who that was anymore.

"Do whatever you would do if the Senor wasn't in the picture. Get your FTA's, collect your rewards."

Oh, be that self. Fearless bounty hunter with no clue. Small, insignificant, tiny little problem with that.

"I lost all my files in the fire. My driver's license, too." I cautioned.

Ranger placed a wallet on my table, a black Velcro one.

"Your license is in your wallet, along with your credit cards. And Connie will have copies of the files for you." He smiled at my obvious look of surprise. "We're a full-service agency."

I stood up, took the keys and wallet and put them in my pockets. I reached for the panic button, but Ranger caught my hand.

"Put it somewhere invisible. The idea is for it to be your last resort. I won't help you if it is removed first." I thought I saw his eyes wander down the front of my shirt, but I could have just as easily imagined that, my attention was focused on his hand around my wrist.

"Okay." I finally said.

Ranger released my hand and stood straight.

"I have to finish up here, I will call you later. Cal is all set to help you, he'll meet you outside," he inclined his head towards the control center "Call me if you see anything unusual. And be careful."

Cal was waiting for me with a box in his hands and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"You ready?" He asked as I entered.

I nodded. As ready as I'd ever be, I figured.

"I have your stuff," He held out the copy paper-sized box for emphasis "I'll take you down to your car."

Cal waited for me to enter the elevator first and we rode down to the garage in silence. I had hoped Ranger would be with me, but it had been silly to believe that he would just put all his other cases on hold to help me. He probably had rearranged a few things to give me as much of his time as he did.

I had felt a little bit less guilty about taking up so many of his resources when Ranger had explained to me the Senor was more or less his target, and had been for some time. He was hoping to lure Najar out by using me as bait. I was fine with that, since I really didn't have anything better to do.

Cal led the way out of the elevator, he walked by the black company cars to a silver VW Beetle convertible, parked in a visitor spot.

"Black was too obvious?" I asked.

Cal just shrugged and waited for me to unlock the car. I liked the car, it was cute. Hopefully, I would leave it in one piece so that I wouldn't have to pay for another repair.

We got all my stuff into the trunk and Cal gave me directions to my new place of residence on a sticky note. They looked simple enough.

Ranger had told me that there wasn't going to be any merry men following me, no one was assigned to watch my back. I was fine with that, I didn't think being followed around was all that much safer. So, as he had pointed out, as soon as I left the RangeMan garage, I was going to be on my own.

What upset me about that was that the thought actually scared me. I was used to being on my own, hadn't done such a good job at it since I had come here, but I was okay. Spending a day with Ranger had changed that. I had seen how easy it would be to sit back and let someone else make decisions for me.

Well, no more. I was determined to take back the steering wheel. Literally, even!

I gave Cal a little finger wave as I backed up the Beetle, and he nodded in response.

The directions had me driving by the bonds office, take a left a few blocks afterwards, and turn right a mile down onto Liberty Street. I counted off numbers and was soon parked outside a grey three story concrete block that looked about as inviting as a dungeon.

My instructions had me in unit 205, so I shouldered my duffel bag, grabbed the box, locked the car and made my way up the front steps. The box had looked a lot lighter when Cal had carried it, I realized. I knew it had the laptop in it, but I didn't know what else.

Unit 205 was directly across from the elevator and stair case. Pretty handy in case I had to make a speedy getaway, I assumed.

There was no one in the institutional-green hallway as I unlocked my apartment's door.

I was pretty anxious to see what a genuine safe house looked like on the inside.

The front door opened to a small foyer with coat hooks on the left wall. I dropped my luggage right inside the door and started exploring.

Through an arch, I could see a living and dining area, two couches around a wooden coffee table in front of a TV chest, a bookshelf, a table with four ladder back chairs off to the right. Floors were marble-colored grey linoleum with a few area rugs, walls were off-white.

Around a corner, the dining area led into a small kitchen with newer appliances.

Off the sitting area, a curtained doorway led to the bedroom and bathroom.

It was a cozy little apartment, and the windows let in plenty of sunshine. The furniture was pretty new and tasteful, in that neutral kind of way. Some prints had been hung on the wall to give it a homier atmosphere and it worked to some extend.

The bedroom held a queen-sized bed with nightstands, a dresser, and a desk with file drawers.

I was just trying to decide what to unpack first when the cordless phone on the desk rang. The sudden noise made me jump and I swore under my breath.

If it wasn't the fastest telemarketer ever, it could only be Ranger, since no one else had the number.

"Tank here." A voice said when I had pushed the 'Talk' button. I had been close, it wasn't Ranger, but still a merry man.

"We show your car parked outside the apartment building. Are you inside and all set?"

"Yes, thank you, I'm good." I replied, and it was true.

Tank reminded me of the checkpoint in an hour. Every two hours, I was to call RangeMan to check in. Just to say hi, so to say. I didn't know if the frequency was too high or too low, Ranger had said we could adjust it after a day or two.

I hung up the phone and my cell phone chirped. I was just Ms Popularity!

"Yo!" I said, it seemed like a fitting way to answer a RangMan-issued phone.

"Yo yourself" Ranger replied. "How is your new place?"

"I haven't checked the bathroom yet, but Brad Pitt wasn't waiting for me in bed, so it's lacking."

I really didn't know why I sometimes just couldn't give a straightforward answer to a straightforward question.

"You didn't specify Brad Pitt, but on short notice, I can have someone warming your bed within the hour. Pitt may take 24 hours." Ranger shot back, not missing a beat. Or maybe he was serious.

I laughed out loud. "The place is awesome, it has everything I need and more."

"Good." He replied "Then get decent, I see you in an hour." And he disconnected.

Hadn't he told me earlier he was going to be busy? Wait, when he said he was going to be over in an hour, he wasn't referring to filling my empty bed, was he? No, of course not, that was ridiculous. He had called to tell me he'd be over in an hour, I had interrupted with the Brad Pitt talk.

So I had an hour to make myself at home.

I set up the laptop on the desk, turned in on and verified I had a wireless Internet connection.

Then I unpacked my loaner clothes and put my toiletries into the bathroom, all of it took maybe fifteen minutes. I was about to start talking to myself nervously, when my wandering eyes fell on the tiny security camera on top of the bookshelf. Right, Ranger had said the apartment was wired. Probably I did not want to entertain Tank or whoever was listening with my ramblings.

I made a mental note to ask Ranger about the bathroom though.

Now I finally had some time to inspect the contents of my new wallet.

It had the RangMan logo embroidered, black on black, but was pretty simple otherwise. The kind that middle school boys carry, maybe.

It wasn't what I was interested in, anyway, I was looking for the driver's license.

Sure enough, the license was there, with my picture and everything. I wasn't an expert, but it looked as real as my old one. It had a different picture that I didn't remember and the name was different: I was now Lindsay Taylor.

I checked the two credit cards, a Visa card and a MasterCard debit card, both issued to Lindsay, a sticker with a PIN code attached to the debit card.

Probably, I'd have to give it all back when Ranger wrapped up his case, yet I couldn't help but wonder what the credit limits may be.

I studied my new driver's license some more, it looked perfectly legit, even though my birthday was not August 28 and I wasn't 27. But both discrepancies were fine with me, I didn't want anyone to know in the first place.

I was making myself a pb&j sandwich in the kitchen when I heard the front door open.

I glanced at the clock on the microwave. Yep, about an hour after our call.

The good thing about small apartments is that you can see all nooks and crannies within a few steps. I leaned back to see beyond the corner.

Ranger entered, his expression much less friendly than before.

"The door was open." He stated, no emotion in his voice.

"I forgot to lock it." In all honesty, it hadn't crossed my mind. The new apartment, the new license, it was way too much excitement to remember to lock a stupid door.

"Don't let it happen again. Anybody can just waltz in here." He still didn't show any emotion. There was no trace of the fun Ranger from that morning or earlier on the phone.

"I have a gun for those cases." I said, tilting my hips up slightly to show him.

"You are holding a sandwich."

"I was expecting you."

His eyes narrowed slightly. Okay, I could see his point about the door, and I should have locked it, but there was no need to get all testy about it.

"Consider this our checkpoint. You don't need to call in. Vinnie's office is open until five or six. Make sure Connie gives you enough skips to keep you busy for a few days. Have dinner in public, be seen, and don't forget to call in. Let Tank know if you need anything."

And he left.

I just stood open-mouthed and stared at the closed door he had walked through.

What had just happened?

Okay, so I hadn't apologized for leaving the door unlocked, and I hadn't promised to never do it again, but that didn't seem severe enough to turn Ranger into an iceberg.

Our earlier phone conversation had ended friendly, so I knew that wasn't it.

I shook my head slowly, replaying the conversation, staring at my half-eaten sandwich that had apparently annoyed him. Nope, still no clue.

Men!

Fine, I'd do as I was told. I was antsy to get out of the apartment anyway, it might as well be to see Connie about some FTA's.

Screw Ranger, and screw Morelli, and while I was at it, I cursed all men in general. It was one of those moments, and it made me feel better.

My Ranger-issued cargo pants had replaced my purse, there was a pocket for everything I needed. If I remembered to put my keys in them every time I came in, I'd never have to search for them for hours. I located them in the left butt pocket and grabbed them, making sure I locked up, I wasn't going to suffer the wrath of Darth Ranger again if I could help it.

My plan was to get copies of the files, and then take them with me for easy reading, but not start the actual bounty huntering until the next day. I had had enough excitement for the time being.

I drove over to the office on Hamilton, releasing my anger on all drivers that dared to get in my way. By the time I parked at the curb in front of the office, I actually felt somewhat better. Maybe if I'd get to punch someone before the day was over, I'd be as good as new.

I entered the office and stared at the woman in front of me, I had almost run her over on my way in. Or rather, had we collided, I would have probably bounced off of her shield of day-glo orange spandex that seemed stretched to its limits.

Lula, I presumed. I didn't think there were many other big black women walking around in 4-inch heels and much-too-small hooker outfits while holding a bucket of fried chicken in their hand and leaving a bail bonds office.

What were the odds?


	16. Chapter 16

OK, I apologize for the lack of action in the last chapter. I needed to set a few things up.

I hope things will pick up again now…

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: Could be anywhere from PG13 to R. Who knows anymore?

Disclaimer: I wish I were making some money on this, but unlike JE, I don't own the characters

Out of my Mind Chapter 16

"Hey!" The woman yelled and took a step back, effectively making me stumble into the office.

"Check out Rangerette with the fine body art!"

She was taking in my scratched and bruised persona. I thought I looked much better than the day before.

"Lula, this is Lindsay. She just started the other day." Connie said from behind her desk.

"Lula is one of our BEA's, among other things," she explained.

Lula was a lot of other things! She was a few inches taller than me, with the heels even more, and she had about 100 pounds on me. Her lipstick matched her nails in its pink brightness, I noticed as she stuck out her hand to shake mine.

"Says here she works for RangeMan." Lula said, pointing to the embroidery on my shirt.

"I'm just borrowing their clothes." I said, but that didn't come out right.

"Hunh." Lula said.

"I've had some bad luck. All my own clothes burned." I felt the need to explain further. Lula nodded at this and looked at Connie. I couldn't see her expression, but Connie smiled.

"Ranger said there was a fire in your motel room?" She asked.

"Yes," I replied "And unfortunately all the files you gave me were in it, too. I was hoping you could make me another copy?"

I stepped closer to Connie's desk.

"You tryin' to sneak into my territory?" Lula challenged. I could tell her background as a hooker had left her with some territorial angst, so I felt it necessary to defuse the situation.

"I figure there'd be enough skips for both of us."

"Will you be working with Ranger?" Connie asked, and Lula's eyes narrowed.

"I don't think so…not at this point. I work better alone." Since then no one would be around to witness my incompetence, I figured, but I didn't need to share that part.

Connie searched through a filing cabinet and came out with three files. She opened them, took out some papers and handed me the folders.

"Here they are. I think that's all I gave you. No one over $1000."

I thanked her and turned back to Lula.

"What are you off to?"

Lula looked at me as if she was trying to assess me. I could appreciate the feeling, she had never seen me before.

"I guess if Ranger lends you his clothes you can't be all bad…" She said slowly, and Connie sighed behind me.

"I wouldn't mind wearing his clothes…" She said slowly.

"I wouldn't mind him taking his clothes off!" Lula countered, and we all smiled at that.

"Well, I best be going. I got a date with this chicken here." And she lifted the bucket for emphasis.

I got an idea. "Hey would you like to have breakfast with me tomorrow? My treat. I could use some tips on the area."

Lula considered that for a moment, and I realized, while she wouldn't be a good poker player, she could be trusted. Her emotions were displayed on her face for everyone to read.

"Sure, I could do breakfast," she said "Wanna meet me here at ten?"

I agreed, and Lula sauntered out the door.

"How long has Lula been working here?" I asked Connie. Some things didn't add up for me. If Ranger was right and Stephanie hadn't been a bounty hunter, how did Lula end up here?

"A few years." Connie said, sorting folders on her desk "She started out doing the filing, but then we had more skips than we could handle, and she took over a few easy ones."

Okay, I wasn't interested in that part, so I tried again.

"She dresses a little…unusual."

Connie snorted, "Yeah, you could say that. It's on account of she used to be a working girl before she came here. A pervert sliced up her friend one night, and Lula was the one to find the body. She had an epiphany or something and decided to turn her life around. She answered an ad I put in the paper."

I wondered if that pervert had still been Benito Ramirez, but I could ask Lula about that.

There were also some questions I wanted to ask about Stephanie, but I decided to wait with those.

"Let me give you my cell phone number, in case you need to get in touch with me." I suggested and wrote my number down on a steno pad next to the phone.

Connie looked at my belt.

"You're not gonna need all that hardware for the low bonds you're after, you know."

I nodded.

"I know, but the last time I thought that, the guy I found was dead. Can't be too protected."

Unh, mental head slap. I had quoted Ranger.

"I guess that's true…" Connie said.

I thought I had accomplished what I needed and said my goodbyes.

It was three in the afternoon, I had my files as instructed and stood on the sidewalk in front of the office, thinking about my next move.

I decided to think it over with coffee, so I strolled into the little diner a few doors down, ordered coffee and pie, and started reading the files I was supposed to be interested in.

If I were to find any of them and brought them in, I could start using my own money again, I reasoned. Paying Ranger back what he had loaned me was top priority on my list. I still didn't know why he had been so weird in my apartment, but I didn't want to owe him money. It was bad enough I was driving his car and lived in one of his places.

In reality, I was more hurt than anything by Ranger's latest behavior. I didn't know why he had changed and didn't like the professional tone.

I had read and prioritized the files. Tomorrow morning after breakfast with Lula, I'd give them a try.

That left me with the rest of the day and all of the night without plans. 'Go out, be seen' Ranger had said. Go out where, I asked myself. I didn't mind being alone in my living room, but being alone in public always bored me.

Well, I didn't have to be alone, I decided.

Fuck pride, I was going to call Morelli. Who knew, maybe he was dying to hear from me?

Probably sick with guilt because he wasn't around when I had almost burnt to a cinder.

While that was highly unlikely, it was all the persuading my nerves needed and I flipped the phone open and dialed his number before I'd get a chance to change my mind.

"Morelli!" Unh, he sounded stressed and annoyed. I took a deep breath.

"Hi, it's…Lindsay" I was getting better; my new name came out without stutter and just the smallest hesitation.

"Hey!" Morelli said, "Long time no see. How're you doing?"

Not exactly the greeting I had been hoping for, but not as bad as 'go to hell' either.

I pushed myself on so I wouldn't run out of courage before I'd get to ask him.

"I was wondering if you'd be free for dinner tonight?" I closed my eyes in anticipation of his answer. This was exactly the reason I never asked guys out, I had this mega fear of being rejected.

"I don't know, I'm not sure how late I'll be working…" He said.

"Okay." I said. Well, I had tried. "Maybe some other time." I was trying to sound all chipper, but it was hard to keep the disappointment out of my voice.

"I dunno, it's too early to tell yet. Can I give you a call back in a little bit?"

"Sure" I said "Talk to you later." And I disconnected.

I know it was silly, and I did feel about 12 years old, but I had an urge to cry.

Maybe I should rethink my decision to not drive off into the sunset after all.

I finished my pie and gathered up my things.

Then I went to the deli close to the office and bought a bag of candy bars and a tub of ice cream, my mood called for comfort food.

I got back into my car and drove off. I remembered passing a beer store on my way earlier, and that's where I stopped to get a case of Yuengling. I was going to have a pity party of mega proportions!

The parking spot in front of the apartment building I had earlier was taken when I returned, I had to drive another block to park my car. When I got to my front door, I was huffing with the effort of carrying the case, but it felt good to be focusing my frustration on other things than two particularly hot men.

The tiny, all but invisible LED light next to the doorknob was lit green, and that told me no one had tried to enter the apartment without a key. At least I hoped that's what it meant, I had been focusing on Ranger's lips at the time I had gotten the instructions.

I listened at the door for a moment and when I didn't hear anything, I entered, schlepping my purchases with me.

The apartment was empty.

I put the ice cream in the freezer and the beer in the fridge. Then I opened a bottle and took it with me to the living room, where I plopped down onto the couch and flipped the TV on. I caught an airing of "The Breakfast Club" right at the beginning and settled back.

This wasn't so bad. With any luck, I'd be drunk and passed out by 9 and get a good night's sleep.

I was on the second beer when my cell phone rang.

"Tank here" he said when I answered it.

"Is everything OK?" Shit! I had missed the check-in call! First the unlocked door and now this!

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry I forgot to call." I apologized.

"No sweat." He said and disconnected. I was sure Ranger was going to hear about it.

The phone rang again an hour and two beers later.

"Sweet Thing!" Joe said by way of greeting when I answered.

"Hi Joe." I said as I sat up straight. I was hoping this was going to be good!

"I just finished my paperwork, and after I've had a shower, I'll be all yours for the evening!"

Oh, better than good! I smiled.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked suggestively. It was the beer talking.

"Where are you staying? Are you still at RangeMan?" He wanted to know. So Ranger hadn't shared the plan with him.

"No, I'm on my own again." And I gave him the address.

"How about I come over with a pizza and some beers?" He asked.

That sounded wonderful, but I was supposed to be up and about, waving myself around like a red flag.

"I was hoping you could show me some of Trenton's nightlife?" I suggested.

He laughed at that.

"Not much to see there. But I know a nice bar with live music, if you're interested."

I was very interested. I preferred a nice bar to a loud club by miles.

"Sounds good."

"Great, I'll pick you up at 8! Later!" and he hung up.

Sweet! I had a good beer buzz going and a date with Joe Morelli.

Unfortunately, I realized, I had nothing to wear but RangeMan black. That was a problem.

I was known to drive under the influence every now and then, even though I knew it was wrong, but I wasn't going to risk it in a strange city. Driving to the mall was out of the question.

In addition, it would have meant spending Ranger's money, and that didn't feel right.

I got up and went into the bedroom, realizing I could give the clothes I had a closer look.

Sure enough, among the three pairs of pants, there was a pair of black jeans. Not ideal, but a little more feminine than cargo pants. I decided to wear a black camisole with a RangeMan sweatshirt tied around my neck as a top.

That could work.

The boots were a little clunky, but if I wouldn't have to dance in them, they would do.

I checked the time on the clock radio at bedside; I had more than two hours to get ready.

I remembered my next check-in call and called Tank. I wondered if I should tell him about my plans for the evening, but he didn't ask, so I didn't volunteer.

At five minutes to eight, I was ready. My hair was flowing in nice curls around my face, it had turned out great for a change. I was still dressed all in black, but it felt like a definite improvement over the bounty hunter work clothes.

The doorbell rang and my heart caught in my throat. Holy Ted, I was nervous!

I had the panic button snapped to my panties, the cell phone clipped onto the waistband of my jeans, the wallet along with my lipstick in my back pocket, and I grabbed the keys on my way out, taking time to remember to lock the door.

I took the stairs down and opened the door.

Joe had his finger on the buzzer, he probably hadn't expected me to greet him downstairs.

He was dressed in blue jeans and a green long-sleeve t-shirt that clung to his muscular torso.

"Hi." I said, always the conversationalist.

He hugged me hello and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

His arm stayed around my shoulder as he led me to his car on the corner.

This did feel like a real date!

The bar we went to turned out to be a lot of fun. A band started shortly after we arrived and they were entertaining us with mainstream cover songs. By their third song, the bar was packed with wall-to-wall people.

I had eaten a burger with fries for dinner and was nursing my second beer when Joe leaned closer.

"What do you say we get out of here?" He asked.

I smiled but didn't know how to react. I knew that suggestion, his voice was unmistakable.

It's what I wanted, right?

Joe was playing with my hair and his knuckles brushed against my face, it felt nice.

What the hell, I thought, do what feels right.

"Your place or mine?" I asked him.

"Let's decide on the way." He whispered into my ear and we got up.

Suddenly, there was a gunshot and someone screamed "You sonovabitch!"

There was more yelling, another gunshot, and then everybody tried to get out the door at the same time.

I saw Joe go for his gun as he tried to grab my hand, but I was shoved aside by a big woman, and when I looked around, I couldn't see him.

I called out his name, but I couldn't even hear myself over the ruckus.

The mass pushed me with them towards the exit. Now I was frantically trying to find Joe.

I caught an elbow to the face just as I saw the front door, and I went down.

Stars were dancing in front of my eyes and I was pushed and shoved from all directions.

I had been in mobs before, but I still had a hard time keeping my panic under control.

Somehow, I managed to get through the front door, and I staggered a few feet away from it to lean against a chain link fence for support. The little patio was packed with people, but at least there was air now.

Sirens were wailing in the distance, getting closer.

I searched the crowd for Joe, cursing my short stature.

People were shouting and crying around me, and I was very close to joining them.

I yelped when an arm settled around my shoulder and instinctively turned away, until I realized it was Joe.

"Thank God!" He said, hugging me.

He dragged me with him through the crowd, until we were clear of them.

"Are you okay?" He asked, studying my face.

I was still breathing rapidly, but I was unhurt, except for a pounding headache.

"I'm fine." I assured him, and then I looked at him. He had a bleeding gash on his cheek.

"Oh my god!" I breathed, "How did this happen?"

Joe shrugged. "No idea."

Squad cars had arrived and the crowd was dispersing more quickly.

"Lindsay, I'm sorry, I have to stay." He shook his head in despair "I don't know if anyone is hurt or dead in there, and since I was the first officer on the scene, I get to stay until it's all settled."

He put his hands on my shoulders and kissed me lightly on the lips.

"I'm sending you home with a cruiser, but I will make it up to you."

That was it, I was destined to never have sex again. I was sure of it.

"Will I get to play with the siren?" I asked, trying to lighten both our moods.

He smiled and pulled me close.

"When I am done here, you can play with whatever you want all night, Cupcake."

Waaaaaah! He said Cupcake! I smiled against his chest and did a silly dance in my head.

He pulled away an inch and lifted my head with his finger under my chin.

And then he kissed me like he meant it and I couldn't wait for playtime to begin.

Joe approached a uniform and talked to him.

More police cars were arriving and a fire truck trundled in behind an ambulance.

Joe took my arm and opened the back door to a cruiser for me.

"This is officer Lansdowne." He said. "He'll take you home. I'll call you as soon as I'm done."

And with a peck on the lips, he was gone.

Lansdowne looked like he had finished police academy a month before, 19 maybe. He tipped his hat and smiled at me.

I got into the car and closed my eyes.

A great evening that had turned out to be.

When I had called Tank from the bar, I had told him everything was 5 by 5. What would I tell him on my next check-in? That I finally knew what it was like to be riding in the back of a police car? He probably wouldn't appreciate the humor.

I didn't get to turn on the siren, but Officer Lansdowne had left the flashing lights on and I felt special. Grateful that our final destination wasn't my parents' house, I could fully enjoy my very first police escort.

My happiness was short-lived.

When we pulled to a stop in front of the apartment building, the headlights caught a man leaning against his car in front of us. He was dressed in black, arms crossed over his chest.

It was Ranger. And he didn't look happy.

I thanked Lansdowne and got out of the car, declining his offer to see me inside.

I approached Ranger and noticed the frown line between his eyes. He didn't move.

His eyes settled on mine.

"Want to tell me about this?" He asked, his expression unreadable.

I sighed and dug in my pockets for my keys, to give my fidgeting hands something to do.

What did he want to know? That my potential shot at great sex had to work overtime? That the other object of my affection had done a 180 on me and was now treating me like a stranger?

That I missed my friends and my cat and that I was this close to coming clean and getting the hell out of Dodge?

Yes, I wanted to tell him about all of that. I just didn't know how.

"I got to ride in a police cruiser." I said, but there was no smile for me from Ranger.

His eyes were still fixed on me and I hadn't seen them blink.

"Look, I'm tired. Can we talk about this in the morning?" I wasn't that tired. I just couldn't deal with another confrontation right then, so I turned my back to Ranger towards the front steps.


	17. Chapter 17

On with the show, I hope you like it. Thank you so much for your reviews, you guys are awesome!

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: Could be anywhere from PG13 to R. Who knows anymore?

Disclaimer: I wish I were making some money on this, but unlike JE, I don't own the characters

Out of my Mind Chapter 17

A part of me expected Ranger to reach out and hold me back, or to follow me, or to at least call my name or something.

Nothing.

When I unlocked the front door and glanced back over my shoulder, he still hadn't moved.

If I was honest with myself, I had to admit my response and subsequent exit were only meant to provoke him, I didn't think he would just let me leave.

Keys in hand, I exited the stairwell and froze: The door to my apartment was open, an inch or two, and I could hear noise in the apartment.

Surely, no one could have slipped by Ranger. But what if he had never been up here, had just waited for me outside? That didn't seem likely.

So I went with the approach that always gets blonde girls in trouble in the movies: I pushed the door open and called "Hello?"

My instincts had been right, it was Tank in the apartment.

"Security breech." He said when I entered and he saw the question mark on my face.

As if that told me everything there was to know.

"What happened?"

He pointed to the coffee table.

A large glass vase containing at least three dozen yellow roses stood on top of it.

I was pretty sure I'd remember if it had been there before.

OK, I thought, let's not panic.

Someone came in, put flowers on the table, and left. Except the someone had to break in, but still, in the grand scheme of things? I could think of worse things than flowers.

Tank wrote a few things on a clipboard and looked at me.

"Do you want to see the note?"

Oh, there was a one of those as well. If he had to ask, I was guessing I didn't want to see it.

"No, she doesn't." Ranger said from behind me.

Tank almost-nodded. "I'm done here. Good to see you. I'll talk to you at the next checkpoint."

He walked past me and left. I didn't turn around, but I had a feeling Ranger was still there.

So it hadn't been a social call. The 'security breech' had brought him here. And silly me had thought…never mind.

I sighed and walked into the kitchen. There was always room for one more beer.

And the act of walking into the kitchen gave me the perfect excuse not to look at Ranger, I was afraid of what I'd see in his eyes. Anger, I could handle. What I never want to see again was the matter-of-fact face of that afternoon, the one that would tell a drive-thru clerk he wanted a burger. If Ranger ate such things.

I got a beer out of the fridge, opened it, and closed the fridge door by leaning against it.

Ranger had followed me and was leaning against the kitchen wall with his shoulder.

I really hated the fact that he looked so incredibly sexy when I was trying to stay cool and detached.

Taking a long pull from my beer, I finally mustered up the courage to look him in the eye.

I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the Ranger that had hugged me the day before, or the one that had stolen my covers that morning, but he just wasn't there.

"So there was a note?" I asked, peeling the label off the bottle and lowering my eyes to it.

"You don't want to know." Ranger said.

"But I already know, I just don't know why I don't want to know." Oh wow, that made a lot of sense. Ranger raised one eyebrow. I didn't know how he did that, I could only ever raise both my eyebrows, but I was happy to see any expression on his face.

"I mean…" and I gestured towards the coffee table.

"I know what you meant." Ranger simply said. "The note said 'The wait is over', but that's not what Tank was referring to."

"There were pictures?" I guessed, and Ranger almost-nodded.

So Ranger didn't want me to see the pictures, probably to protect me. Of course, my mind didn't work that way. Now the pictures had become forbidden fruit and I had to see them, in particular because Ranger didn't want me to.

"Where were you tonight?" Ranger asked.

"Out and about, like you requested."

I didn't know why I was being so secretive, I had nothing to hide. Maybe I just wanted Ranger to care and didn't think the truth was interesting?

"With a cop?"

"Yes." Or was he referring to my ride home? "No."

I was treated to a raised eyebrow again, and I thought I saw the very faint beginnings of a smile.

Oh, for Ted's sake, why should I feel bad about any of it?

I took another sip from my beer.

"I was out with Joe, but then there was shooting and mayhem and Joe sent me home in the cop car."

"You were out with Morelli?"

See, I knew he'd pick that detail!

"Yes."

"And someone shot at you?"

How did he manage to not move for such a long time? And would he have moved if I jumped his bones?

I pushed those beer-happy thoughts aside to remain calm.

"No at me. Just…in general. There was shooting."

"Where the hell were you?"

"A bar…"

Ranger let out a sigh and flipped his cell phone open. At last, movement, I noted.

He instructed whoever had picked up to get him a report on bar fights that night and didn't say any more for a minute or two.

"And it's a match?" He then wanted to know.

He closed his phone and turned away from me. I jumped when I heard the loud crash, and I knew what it was before I saw it: Ranger had thrown the vase against the nearest wall and it had shattered all over the floor. Roses were lying everywhere.

"Feel better?" I asked a lot calmer than I felt. An outburst from Ranger scared the shit out of me.

"No." He admitted, raking a hand through his hair.

OK, I got the picture, Ranger clearly thought I was on a need-to-know basis, and what he thought I needed to know was very little.

I on the other hand was now very anxious to learn what had provoked Ranger to lose his temper. I mean, I hadn't thought that was even possible!

"Do you want a beer?"

OK, so when in doubt, I drank or ate. It's how I solved problems. In any case, a beer couldn't hurt.

He surprised me by nodding. "Yes, I do."

I hurried back into the kitchen to fulfill his request. It never crossed my mind to ask him if he wanted a glass.

I handed the open bottle to Ranger and took a seat on a spot on the couch that had stayed relatively dry when water had splashed everywhere from the broken vase.

Then I counted the seconds. I was going to give him one minute to tell me more details or I was going to burst, I was sure of it.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" I asked when he remained silent. He had emptied half his beer with one sip.

"Nothing you want to hear." He finally said.

I threw my hands up in the air. "Probably not, but it seems to me like I'm missing a big part of the picture. And when I get flowers, I at least want to know who to send the thank-you-note to!"

Although I was pretty sure there was no card to be written.

Ranger's silence was annoying me, not knowing what was going on was annoying me more.

"Tell me!" I urged.

Ranger sat down on the coffee table, facing me. He seemed totally composed, but I could still see the frown line, and now I noticed how tired his eyes looked.

"We thought you were dead."

And he finally pulled a stack of photos out of one of his pockets and gave them to me.

The first thing I noticed was the blood. A pool of blood on the floor. The next picture still showed the blood, but now there was blond hair in it, as if a head was lying in a pool of blood.

It was hard not to let imagination jump in because the pictures were fuzzy and unfocused. As if they had been taken in a hurry.

There was a mangled body lying in the blood in another picture, and I could tell it was a woman's body dressed in black, but her face wasn't visible.

With the right mindset, the assumption was clear: These could be pictures of my dead body. "You could have called me." I said, my voice barely above a whisper "I could have told you I wasn't dead."

"I did." Ranger replied "There was no answer."

I looked down to my waist and unclipped the cell phone. It was switched off. I had called Tank from the bar, but had not looked at it since. Maybe the battery had died, or it had gotten switched off somehow during the brawl.

"So…" I needed to know the whole story so I was thinking out loud "You get the alarm from someone entering my apartment. When you get here, you find the flowers and the pictures. You call me, but I don't answer. You assume I am dead and when you see me alive you think I shouldn't know."

"No." Ranger shook his head slightly.

No, that wasn't how the story went or no, he didn't think I needed to know?  
He was driving me crazy!

I emptied my beer and stood up, my knees brushing Ranger's. What I really wanted to do was shake him until he told me the whole story, but I settled for another beer, although the room was slowly starting to spin.

When I got back with two new beers, Ranger was on the couch.

"Then tell me your version." I said, handing him the new bottle, sitting down on the second couch.

And if he refused, I'd throw him out.

Only figuratively, of course, since there was no way I could make Ranger do anything he didn't want and it was his apartment. But it felt good to have a plan.

To my surprise, Ranger smiled a little.

"Boy, you are persistent." He took a deep pull of his beer and put it on the table.

I shrugged, hoping it expressed that it was part of my job or something.

"The alarm came in at 21:47," he motioned towards the front door "Your car showed up parked outside, and when you didn't answer the landline, Tank called your cell phone."

As best as I could remember, the shooting at the bar had started around ten. So I could have been trying to make it out of the bar at the time Tank called.

"What about the cameras?"

Ranger followed my stare to the security camera over the bookshelf.

"We are not listening to you and we are not watching you on our monitors. It is being recorded. We'd have to have someone sitting outside the building to listen in. There was no indication of immediate threat, hence the scheduled phone calls."

I remembered Tank calling when I had just gotten in. Why would he have to call if he could see me on the monitor? Mental head slap.

"So then you came here to see what had tripped the alarm?"

"No, Tank and Cal came over to check on you. They called me when they didn't find you, only the presents."

"What did you learn about the brawl?"

"That no one was killed at the bar, but police found a body in the restrooms when they searched the place." My guess was that it was a blond woman's body.

"I thought my phone was a tracking device, too?"

I still didn't understand how they had assumed the worst right away. It seemed a little drastic.

"Only when it's on, babe."

Oh, OK.

"No cell phone on the belt." He pointed to one of the pictures now lying on the coffee table.

I put my beer next to Ranger's, picked up the photo and studied it more carefully.

"That's not my belly button."

My hand flew up to my mouth. I hadn't meant for that to come out loud.

"I'll keep that in mind next time." Ranger said.

I looked from the picture to him. Was he being sarcastic? Was 'my' Ranger back?

"Did you really think I was dead?" I asked.

He nodded "It was a possibility."

"You didn't seem all too happy to see me alive when I got out of the car earlier."

Probably, I should have been focusing on the pictures and who had sent them or whatnot. The only thing I wanted to know was why he had been so cold to me when I had gotten dropped off.

Female logic. It wasn't derogatory if I thought it about myself, was it?

"I was."

"Could have fooled me."

Ranger's eyes bored into mine. I knew it was a challenge and I should have known better, but I was almost drunk and frustrated.

"I'm glad you're alive." He said.

I scoffed. "Once more with less feeling."

In a blur of motion, the ground moved and a split-second later, I was on Ranger's lap where I had been sitting by myself before. Either he was superman-fast or I was slow.

He took my face in both his hands and kissed me. Lightning-force electricity shot through me and set my toenails on fire as his tongue touched mine and his left hand slid down from my jaw line to my neck. He intensified his kiss and used his right hand to press me against him.

Heat pooled up in my midsection and spread south, and I moaned into his mouth.

He released me and stood up, pulling me with him. I was breathing heavily.

"I'm glad you're alive."

He said, turned, and was out the door before I had fully realized I was standing on my own two feet.

Yet again, I was staring at the door after him as if that could make him come back.

Only this time, I was trying to get my heart rate back into the vicinity of normal and make my brain form actual thoughts.

'Shit!' Okay, that was a thought.

Ranger had kissed me!

Actually, I didn't have a word for what he had done to me, but a kiss was the closest thing to it that I knew. My lips were still humming, and other parts of me weren't ready to let me forget what had just happened any time soon.

Ranger had kissed me!

'I said…and then he said…and then I…but he…huh.' Was about the extend of my thought process. I just stood motionless where Ranger had put me.

Hours seemed to have passed when I finally sat back down on the couch.

The photos lay forgotten on the coffee table. Why would Ranger leave them behind?

Roses were strewn all around me, giving the apartment a surreal quality.

What were the flowers for, anyway?

If someone wanted Ranger to think I was dead, why would he add flowers to the mix? That seemed an unnecessary gesture.

But then I realized that maybe the flower guy hadn't meant to impress Ranger, but me. Maybe they weren't as aware of Ranger's involvement as I had thought.

So he had included the flowers as a sign of intimacy?

It didn't make much sense.

But the more I looked at the pictures, the more I was convinced that they were meant for me. Sort of a 'look what we're capable of' statement. The first note had come with a photo-shopped image, the new ones were real.

The roses were probably just someone's idea of a joke.

But Ranger had kissed me!

I couldn't get over that, it was every other thought.

First Joe…then Ranger…in the same night! I was a slut! Well, technically, I was only a slut if I slept with two men in the same night, but it felt slutty. Mostly because I had WANTED to kiss them both.

I downed the remainder of both beers and took the empty bottles back to the kitchen.

It was past midnight, and I decided to continue the inner debate in bed.

I ran into a wall on my way to the kitchen and into a couch on my way to the bedroom, I was wasted.

It seemed way too much of an effort to detour to the bathroom, so I fell facedown on the bed, fully clothed. After a minute, I had to turn to lie on my back, because I had to place a foot on the floor to stop the room from spinning.

When I closed my eyes, scary images came up; my panic at being smushed at the bar, smashing glass, spraying blood, distorted faces.

My mind was replaying all the emotions of the past few hours.

I was trying to think about Joe or Ranger, but I only succeeded in thinking about the kisses.

And I couldn't decide whether or not I should feel guilty about kissing one or the other.

At some point during this emotional rollercoaster, I fell asleep.

I woke up when the phone ring, as was quickly becoming normality.

The sound I uttered when I picked up the receiver was close to "Hrrmph?"

It was dark in the bedroom, still nighttime.

"Are you alone?" A man asked, I didn't recognize the voice.

"Mmmm." Was my response.

"We're keeping your boyfriend quite busy, you know." And there was cackled laughter.

"You may spend many nights without him. Would you like me to keep you company?"

Now I was awake. It had taken me longer because I had been asleep and drunk, but now I knew who I was talking to. Whoever was going around killing people had my number. Cheery thought.

I didn't know if I should hang up or keep the conversation going because RangeMan could trace the call. That hadn't come up in the instructions!

"He's not my boyfriend." What kind of response was that? It wasn't any of his business who was or wasn't my boyfriend! And for that matter, who was he talking about?

"Are you saving yourself for me?" And he laughed again. Okay, scary.

He had never tried direct contact before, and he had never made personal threats. Apart from the killing me stuff, but I was thinking really personal stuff, like the icky conversation we were having.

"Go to hell." And I slammed down the receiver. Not original, but I was freaked.

I felt the need to throw up, and I didn't know if it was from the alcohol or from the scare.

The phone rang again, but I couldn't bring myself to pick it up.

I hugged my knees and slowly rocked back and forth, willing the phone to stop ringing.

The urge to barf subsided finally, but the phone kept ringing. It would stop for a beat or two, then resume.

I jumped up and pulled its cord out of the wall.

Then I stared at the cord in disbelief. They had succeeded in freaking me out, I was acting erratic, not thinking about my actions.

If I kept it up, I was as good as dead.

I remembered my gun, which I had left clipped to my cargo pants. Maybe I wouldn't be able to shoot it, but it would give me a sense of security. It took me some time to gather up the guts to get up, find my discarded pants on the floor and get the gun off them.

I got back into bed and curled up in a fetal position, the gun on the nightstand. If only I was able to fall back asleep, everything would be right in the morning.

Everybody knew that nighttime terrors looked half as bad by the light of day!

I had almost convinced myself that everything was going to be okay and there was nothing to be scared of, when I heard the unmistakable sound of the front door lock tumble.

Had Ranger locked it when he had left? Was there a deadbolt in addition to the one lock?

I broke out into a sweat.


	18. Chapter 18

I can't believe I'm on the 18th chapter. And I don't really know how many more chapters there will be, there's no end in sight…

Thank you so much for your reviews and suggestions, you inspire me to keep writing!

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: Could be anywhere from PG13 to R. Who knows anymore?

Disclaimer: They're all JE's characters, except for Sandra. And no one would pay me for Sandra.

Out of my Mind Chapter 18

The seconds ticked away slowly. I was trying to listen into the darkness for any sounds, but the blood rushing in my ears made that hard.

'The gun!' Sane!Sandra spoke up 'Take the gun!'

The gun, right, where was it again?

I felt for it on the bedside table and almost knocked it down, my fingers were cold.

It was the gun Ranger had given me, not the one I had picked out. Not that my gun had felt comfortable, but I had chosen it for the grip I had on it. This gun was different, and I couldn't make out if it needed a safety thingy removed, or how many bullets it held.

I stifled a scream when I heard a low 'thump' in the main room.

My breath was coming out in ragged puffs, and I let out a blood-curling scream when the lights flicked on, aimlessly pointing the gun and firing.

I fired two rounds before a form descended upon me, pinning my arms above my head.

"Lin!"

I couldn't stop screaming, my eyes were squeezed shut and the weight on me was pinning me into the mattress.

"Lin! It's Ranger!"

The words trickled through to me in slow motion.

I opened my eyes and found myself eye-to-eye with Ranger, inches away from my face.

He kept his iron grip on me until I stopped struggling, and even then he didn't release my arms.

"R…R…Ranger?"

He took the gun out of my hand and slowly got up.

I stayed in the position he had left me in, taking lungfuls of air, tears streaming down my face.

"It's okay." He said. "You're safe."

He sat down next to me and cupped my shoulder.

I pushed myself into a sitting position and almost threw myself against him, wrapping my arms around him.

His arms settled around me and I realized I was sobbing now.

I had no reason to cry, it was over, but I couldn't stop the tears.

It took me a while to calm down, when the tears stopped, my heart was still hammering in my chest. I took a few deep breaths and pushed myself away from Ranger, wiping my eyes with my arm.

"You scared me." I said softly, trying to smile to let him know I was attempting humor.

"You didn't answer your phone."

"That was you?"

"Yeah, that was me."

"I…I thought…" The stranger's voice sounded in my mind as I looked at the phone.

"We saw an incoming call and were trying to trace it. When the connection was severed, we tried to call you."

He wiped a tear from my cheek. "You scared us, too, babe."

"I didn't mean to." I whispered.

His hand rested on my face and he was studying me quietly, probably trying to figure out if I was going to scream again.

"I know." He finally said softly.

My senses returned. Right, of course. I had never turned the cell phone back on, the landline was the only way for Ranger to get in touch with me. He had been trying to call, not Bad Guy. Well, how was I to know?

"You kissed me." I said. I had no idea where that had come from, it certainly wasn't what I had wanted to say.

He smiled. "I did. Seemed like the only way to convince you."

"If you can't persuade them, take them by surprise?"

"Something like that." And he took me in his arms again.

"Don't make it a habit to shoot at me." He said, his mouth close to my ear.

"I didn't know it was you." I argued, my voice muffled because my mouth was at his shoulder. I could feel Ranger laugh softly.

"Are you going to be all right?" He asked, gently pushing me away.

I nodded, but I didn't believe it. I doubted there was a minute of sleep left for me, even if I'd be able to control my breathing by dawn.

"Who was the caller?" Ranger asked.

"Huh?"  
"Who called you?" Ranger's voice sounded patient, the way you talk to a small child.

"It…it was him. Flower guy…photo dude."

"How do you know?" He was still holding my arms, his concerned eyes on me.

I told him the gist of the phone call, everything I could remember about it.

"It was creepy." I finished. Ranger nodded slowly, then he kissed my forehead.

"Try to get some rest. I'll be on the couch."

And he got up.

I didn't want him to leave, not even if he was going to be in the next room, and I wanted to tell him so, but no words would come out of my mouth.

Ranger was talking on his cell phone when I fell back down on my back. He was probably briefing the team.

I kind of understood his reaction outside earlier; it was probably his way of showing he cared. In a twisted sort of way.

As far as I was concerned, the kiss had really shown that he cared.

But is till didn't explain his all-business-like attitude during the day.

I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort out what I was feeling. In the past few days, I had been scared and terrified more often than ever in my life before. At the same time, there had been moments when I had felt never-experienced safety and comfort. I wondered if it was me or the men in my new life.

I pretty much knew the fear was because of the Senor, but I didn't know what I felt about Joe or Ranger.

At first, I had categorized it as a fangirl crush, understandable attraction to the hotties I had read so much about.

But what was it now?

The bedside radio clock told me it was 4 AM when I finally gave up on sleeping.

I decided to take a hot bath, since the bathroom had an inviting tub, and I didn't want to wake Ranger by making coffee.

I tiptoed into the bathroom and closed the door, started the water and dissolved half a bottle of my vanilla shower gel in the stream.

With a sigh, I eased myself into the steamy goodness.

A loud knock on the door woke me, the water only lukewarm around me.

"You okay in there?" Ranger asked.

I gasped in surprise.

"I'm fine!"

"Need some help?" Heee! Tempting…

"No!"

I thought I heard him chuckle, but he didn't come in.

Coffee was brewing in the kitchen when I made my way out of the bathroom.

Ranger's hair was a little mussed, and he was a few hours past a five o'clock shadow.

"Morning." I said, because I needed to say something.

Sunlight was streaming through the windows and traffic could be heard from outside.

Ranger clipped on his gun and secured it, then he looked at me.

"How're you feeling?"

"Eh…" I said and moved my hand in a 'so-so' motion.

"About today…" He started.

"I'm meeting Lula for breakfast."

"Okay, but you'll be with Tank and Cal."

"What?"

"It was a little too close for comfort last night. I'll have the two follow you."

"But…"

"No argument." He said, putting a finger on my mouth. "You won't see them, they'll be your shadow."

"Do you still want me out and about?" I asked, although that was pretty much obvious, if I had merry men following me.

"If you feel up to it?" He sounded like he really wanted it to be my decision. I reasoned that the alternative was staying in the apartment all day, so I nodded.

"Do you have any plans with Joe tonight?"

I had a lot of plans with Joe any night, only Joe didn't know about them. Was Ranger jealous?

"Because if you spend time with him, he needs to know the stakes. I'll need to brief him about last night."

Oh, not so much with the jealousy then. Just doing his job.

"He'll call me later."

"Might be a good idea to turn your cell phone on then." Ranger said, handing me the phone.

Right. I didn't know why I was disappointed that Ranger wasn't jealous. It wasn't like I expected him to be.

"I gotta go." He said "There's coffee in the kitchen. Try not to get into too much trouble today."

I grimaced at that and he smiled, stroking my hair lightly.

"I'll try." I promised, expecting some form of a goodbye kiss.

Ranger winked and walked past me to the door.

"Lock up behind me!" He advised and left. So much for the kiss goodbye.

I still had hours before I was meeting Lula for breakfast, so I had my coffee in front of the TV, inhaling mindless morning shows. After an hour, I was successfully distracted and started thinking about the day ahead.

I didn't know if I was going to ask Lula to join me for the skip tracing or if I wanted to venture out on my own. Knowing that I'd have RangeMan protection made me feel safe, probably I didn't need Lula for comfort. But it would give me a chance to find out more about her, and possibly about Stephanie.

If I'd have any luck catching an FTA, I was going to spend the money on new clothes. Black all the time just didn't work for me. So there was a plan! Go get breakfast, get to know Lula, catch some skips, make money and splurge at the mall! Do not pass Go, do not waste a minute thinking about the bad guy, but be vigilant. I realized there'd had to be some thinking if I was going to do a good job being vigilant, but I didn't let that bring my mood down. I was a girl with a mission!

At ten minutes of ten, I parked the shiny convertible in front of the bonds office. I hadn't figured out how to bring the top down, so I wasn't as cool as possible, but it was okay. As much as I had looked, I hadn't been able to pick out a car that was following me. If Tank and Cal were there, they were well hidden.

My cargo pants were packed with all my gizmos and gadgets, and the gun was at my belt.

Connie smiled at me by way of greeting when I entered the office.

"Lula isn't in yet. Do you have any body receipts for me?"

"Not yet." I said "But how long will you be here today?"

"Depends on how much comes in today. It's been kind of a slow week, probably until 5."

And she returned her attention to her nails, painting them a fire engine red.

I took a seat on the couch and looked around, trying to memorize every single detail. I wanted to tell Jess everything when I returned. I felt so bad for not calling her earlier or talking to her now, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it, to even try to explain. I was in my own world now.

The door burst open and Lula paraded in, there was no other way to describe her entrance.

She wore purple biker shorts that seemed to defy the laws of spandex, and a black tube top that did the best it could in reigning in her plus-size boobs. On me, the outfit would have looked ridiculous, Lula looked great.

She smiled wide. "Good thing you're already here, girl. I'm hungry. I can get real cranky if I don't get some food in me for breakfast."

I didn't doubt that, I was the same way with coffee.

"Do you want to go to the diner next door?" I suggested.

"Heck no. I have my eyes on Antonio's. Best breakfast around." She hitched up her purse on her shoulder and greeted Connie. "Want us to bring anything back for you?"

"I'll have your leftover breakfast fries, if you don't mind." Connie replied, but I had my doubts Lula did leftovers.

We took Lula's car, since she refused to ride in my 'clown car' with me. I was okay with that, since I didn't know the way and I'd never ridden in a Firebird, much less a banana-yellow one.

My fillings were vibrating when we pulled into the restaurant's parking lot a few minutes later, Lula had the bass cranked high.

I waited until we were seated and had placed our orders, carefully prioritizing my questions. There was so much I wanted to ask Lula, but I didn't want her to get the wrong idea. After all, I couldn't tell her the real reason for my questions, ever, so I didn't really know what to tell her if she asked why I wanted to know all these things.

"So, Connie tells me you've been with Vinnie's for some time now?"

She nodded, stirring her coffee.

"Do you like it?"

She thought about that for a moment. "It has its moments, I guess. Some days are better than others. Over all though, one hundred percent better than my old job."

"I heard."

"Dayum, that Connie is a blabber mouth!" But she didn't seem upset, as if she had been expecting as much.

"What made you change careers?" It felt like a safe question at that point.

The waitress arrived with our mountains of food, and Lula waited until she had left to reply.

"I realized I was miserable, it wasn't like being a 'ho is a career choice you make. But I never got the motivation, you know?" She poured syrup over her pancakes "Then one night, I get a phone call and it's my friend Jackie and she's outside but can't make it up the stairs, on account of she's been beaten to a pulp by a john."

Lula chewed and swallowed, she looked like she was reviewing what had happened in her mind.

"That was it. I decided then and there that I didn't want to end up like that. Jackie ended up being all right, but I was done. The next week, I started filing at the bonds office. And let me tell you, it wasn't an easy switch. But I've been happier ever since!" She grinned for emphasis and speared a sausage link.

There wasn't an easy segue, but I tried anyway.

"Didn't Stephanie Plum used to do the filing?"  
Lula frowned, thinking. "Skinny white girl with blue eyes?"

I nodded.

"I think I remember her. Vinnie's cousin, right?" I nodded again. "Last I heard, she was getting married. I think she moved away." That didn't sound like Lula and Steph had been that close. It truly was an alternate universe.

"Do you know who she got married to?" It was worth a try. Lula shook her head. "I never asked. Connie may know though. How do you know Stephanie?"

Time for a fib, I decided.

"Ranger mentioned her."

"That man is fiiiine!"

My sentiments exactly. "Amen. Did you ever, you know, ask him out or something?"

Lula shook her head vehemently and the little glass beads in her braids clacked. "I think I'd mess my pants trying, but I sure wouldn't kick him out of my bed, if you know what I mean. I've heard rumors."

She turned her attention back to her breakfast.

"What kind of rumors?" I asked. This I had to know!

"You know," She swirled her fork in the air "about his…abilities." As if I hadn't guessed that.

"What about his abilities?"

"Word is, once you get to know him, you know, that way, you're ruined for all other men." Lula looked like there was no doubt in her mind the rumor was true. I had only kissed Ranger, but I didn't have much doubt either.

We continued talking about various hot celebrities and how they compared to Ranger, then about the best places to buy clothes and get a good manicure in Trenton. Lula didn't seem to mind that I never asked her about insider tips relating to bounty huntering.

I paid for breakfast and considered it a true value: I had learned about Lula, and to some extend about Steph, and I had some new topic to discuss with Ranger when I got him alone again.

We drove back to the office, and Lula was about to park at the curb when she hesitated.

"Uh-oh." She said, her eyes focused ahead.

"What?" I asked, trying to follow her line of sight.

"Don't look now, but there's a cop leaning against your car. Do you want me to take off and drop you somewhere else?"  
I smiled at her concern. Morelli was leaning against my car as if he was posing for GQ, I couldn't imagine a less threatening stance. I had only just met Lula and she was already looking out for me!

"That's OK." I assured her "I know him. It's Joe Morelli."

"Yeah, I know." She said, parking her Firebird "But I didn't know you two were best buds. Always gotta be careful when you see cops out of nowhere."

"We met over a crime scene the other day, it was really romantic. If you're Morticia Adams…"

Lula laughed at that and killed the engine. "If you say so. Don't take it personally, but I'm not going to linger. I got filing to do and everything."

I smiled. Alternate universe or not, Lula still had a 'respect' for cops. I couldn't blame her, they usually made me nervous, too. Well, Joe still made me nervous, but in a whole other way.

Joe looked up when we slammed the car doors shut and he walked over to where I was standing on the sidewalk. Lula glanced at him and he acknowledged her, then she disappeared into the office.

"Hi." Joe said simply and pulled me towards him by my neck, kissing me lightly on the lips. Now there was a proper 'hello'. He smiled when he released me.

"Sorry I didn't call last night, I didn't get out of the bar until well after two. There were…issues." He let go of me and gestured 'you know…'.

"I heard." I said, and Joe looked surprised. "Well, Ranger heard, and he told me." I explained.

Joe's eyes narrowed a little. "It's probably easier for me not to ask how Ranger knows these things the moment they happen…but be careful he doesn't drag you into anything."

Like what?

"What do you mean?" I wanted to know. Joe shook his head, smiling knowingly. "Ranger's got a reputation for making and following his own rules. He's on our side, for the most part, but we can only count on him if his goals happen to match ours. I'd hate for you to be dragged into something." His knuckles brushed my face. "Well, any deeper than you already have."

I smiled at the sentiment. Unfortunately, it would make it harder for me to explain Ranger's involvement and the master plan. If Joe didn't like what he heard, he could jeopardize the setup.

"I need to talk to you." I said, in a tone lighter than I felt. I was going to feel Joe out first, then tell him the entire story. After all, he had seen the first note and pictures, he was already half up-to-date.

Joe looked at his watch. "I have to run now, but if you don't have plans, we could do a late lunch?" The thought of food almost made me gag since I had just stuffed myself with enough bacon, eggs and hash browns to feed a family, but I nodded.

"Around three?" He asked as he pulled me close.

"Want to meet me right here?" I had to come back here anyway if I had any body receipts to cash.

He kissed me instead of answering, but I thought I had gotten the message. There was a lot of tongue and some wandering hands before he released me, smiling.

"I'll see you then." He said before he walked over to his car and took off. I was glad no one had stopped to gawk at us, it must have been quite a show. I cleared my throat and searched my pockets for my car keys, telling myself to calm down already.

When I had started the car and pulled away from the curb, I saw a black SUV do the same a number of cars back. Shit! I had forgotten about my escort, had they witnessed the whole thing?  
I felt my ears burn and the goofy smile was gone from my face.

Shit!


	19. Chapter 19

This is chapter 19. I hope you're still with me

Thank you so much for your reviews and suggestions, you inspire me to keep writing!

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: Could be anywhere from PG13 to R. Who knows anymore?

Disclaimer: They're all JE's characters, except for Sandra. And no one would pay me for Sandra.

Out of my Mind Chapter 19

The next item on my agenda was Craig Johnson who had gotten drunk and disorderly on his neighbor's lawn. Actually, the next thing to do was to slap myself silly, but I took the road to Johnson's house.

I thunked my head on the steering wheel at every red light, and I berated myself the whole way. I didn't really know why I was so upset, it was probably the thought of Tank telling Ranger I had made out with Joe that had me in a state. Maybe Ranger wouldn't ask for a detailed report, maybe Tank would only tell him about any problems, like flower deliveries or car crashes. And even if he did, I argued with myself, what's it to Ranger? It wasn't like we were dating or anything. Okay, the truth was I had feelings for both of them and I didn't know what to do about it.

Directions to Johnson's house had been scribbled on his file, so he wasn't hard to find. When I parked in front of the line of row houses, I told myself to focus. Just because Johnson sounded like and easy capture, didn't mean he would be. I had thought Moreno would be a no-brainer, too…

Not only was Craig home, he answered his door after my second knock and had trouble standing up straight. He was about 5'5", with sandy blond hair and brown eyes, reminding me of a Labrador. It was hard to tell with his clothes fitting as loosely as they did, but I was guessing he didn't weigh over 130 pounds. He had a silly grin on his face: It wasn't even noon and he was absolutely shitfaced.

I introduced myself and gave him the spiel about rescheduling and I could tell by his eyes that I had lost him somewhere. He didn't resist when I cuffed him or took him by the elbow to my car.

By now I knew my way around a little bit, but I still had to backtrack to the bonds office to find my way to the police station. Johnson had fallen asleep by the time I arrived at Trenton's finest, and that was fine by me. It was easy to drag him out of the car and through to the docket lieutenant.

I couldn't believe my luck. My second capture attempt and it had been easier than getting a baby's binky! I felt the need to wave the body receipt around like a trophy, a big grin on my face. Although I had lost sight of the RangeMan SUV some time ago, I was pretty sure it was still there, so I kept my outburst under control as best as possible. But nothing would keep me from spending my $50 share on something fun.

I stopped at a convenience store to get a map of the area so I could continue my search.

Paola Minetti and Thomas Althaus were still on my list, and their addresses didn't mean anything to me. Paola was worth $80 to me, and Thomas $85. If I brought them both in, I'd have earned a small fortune by the time I'd cash my checks.

Paola had listed her job as a barista at Star Bucks, so that's where I started.

I was told she wouldn't come on until two in the afternoon, but they had no reason to believe she wouldn't show. If I waited another 45 minutes for her to show up, I'd be cutting it awfully close if I wanted to meet Joe on time. So I backtracked back into Trenton proper, took the turns as they seemed most logical on the map, and finally stopped in front of her house. With any luck, she wouldn't have left yet.

A short, middle-aged woman answered the door when I rang the bell. According to her file, Paola was 45 years old, and the woman in the door looked a lot like the picture. She lived alone in a row house in the middle of the block. What was it about those row houses? I really didn't see the appeal.

"Paola Minetti?" I asked. The woman nodded.

"I'm Lindsay Taylor and I work for Vincent Plum's Bail Bonding Agency. You missed your court date the other day." Boy, did I sound official.

She opened her mouth to say something, but she never got the chance. A bullet zinged past me and embedded itself in Paola's doorframe. Another shattered a front window. She screamed and slammed the door shut, I fell to the ground. I've never been shot at, but that's what they always do on TV, ass to the ground. I was so shocked, I forgot to scream.

A few more bullets flew around me, hitting the house, another window, and the ground.

I heard footfalls and shouting, then the shooting stopped, but I didn't move. There may have been cars racing away, I wasn't sure.

"Are you okay?" I heard Tank's voice moments before I felt strong hands around me, lifting me off the ground. I had never thought of myself as a lightweight, but when Ranger or Tank lifted me, I felt light as a child, that's how effortlessly they carried me.

"I'm OK." I assured him, and he believed me after giving me a quick once-over. Dusting myself off, I realized I had skinned my hands. Just perfect.

"Did you see the shooter?" Tank asked.

I shook my head no "But I'm pretty sure it wasn't my FTA," I indicated the front door "She was just as scared as I was."

Tank's radio squawked and he swore under his breath. "We lost him. Cal had a visual for a few blocks. He doesn't know how the perp got away!"

"You got all that from the little static just now?" I asked.

He smiled. He had a cute smile, if anything on a bear of a man could be called cute. I had to strain my neck just to see his face when I was just a few steps away from him.

"It was in code."

"Of course." And I felt only a little stupid, I hadn't been able to make out a code like 10-4 or something either.

"Is it safe to leave? Do you need me to hang around? Should we call the police?" I think I overwhelmed Tank a little. He didn't say anything though, he just shook his head.

"I'm afraid this cuts the afternoon short. My orders are to escort you back to home base in case of incident. I will contact the authorities."

It took me a minute to decipher military-speak. "You mean you want to take me home?"

Tank nodded almost imperceptibly. "Affirmative."

"Oh, no, no." I shook my head for emphasis and wagged a finger at him "I have an FTA in there and then I have a…meeting at 3, that's 1500 hours to you. I appreciate your help a lot, but I think I'm OK now."

Tank looked pained. Like my outburst hadn't been in the handbook and he was unsure as to how to proceed.

Cal pulled up to the curb in the SUV.

I glared at Tank, facing off with a man twice my size. While I realized the idiocy in that, I wasn't going to stand down.

"I will place the FTA in custody for you." Tank said. As if that was my most pressing issue! It was true, the shooting had rattled me, but the danger seemed to be over and I didn't see any reason why I should scratch my plans. Probably I would have seen the severity of the situation if there wasn't a cute outfit to be bought and I didn't have a date with Joe.

I tried my death glare on Tank, but he didn't move. I heard a car door slam, and moments later, Cal was by Tank's side.

"Proceed?" He asked Tank, then he looked at me.

"No," I said "Change of plans. You two go write up the report or whatever, and I will bring in my FTA. I will take her straight to the police station and then I'm going to return to the office."

That's what I wanted to do; I crossed my arms over my chest defiantly.

Cal looked as if the information didn't compute. It looked like he wanted to say "But…".

I put my hand up in a 'stop!' motion. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I am going to initiate contact with the FTA now." I thought that sounded very military.

Cal looked at Tank and Tank sighed.

"No." Tank simply said. I rolled my eyes and turned to knock on Paola's front door, but Tank took my elbow. "You come with me. Cal will drive your car."

I tried to resist, but he had an iron grip on me. I couldn't believe it! Cal had a pair of cuffs in his hands, and my eyes widened.

"You can't be serious!" I exclaimed, trying to lean away from Tank.

Cal did a palms-up and the cuffs jingled. "Your choice," he said, "We have our orders."

The situation was becoming ridiculous. Of course I realized I wouldn't stand a chance if they had a mind to carry me off to the SUV. The only choice I had was the amount of dignity I would be left with.

I let out a sigh and stopped resisting. Tank obviously didn't trust the sudden peace; he held my arm firmly all the way back to the car. He deposited me in the back seat and finally let go. "Sorry, no child-locks in the front" he said just before shutting the door.

It was a needless precaution, I wasn't going to cause a scene by trying to outrun him.

Halfway during the drive to the apartment, my cell phone rang. I took a look at the display, it was Joe. A glance at the clock in the dash told me it was a little past three. What could I tell him? That I was unable to meet him because I was detained by a bulldozer named Tank? I was going to call Joe back when I was in the privacy of the apartment, I decided. No way was I going to give Tank the satisfaction of reveling in his victory.

As I expected, Tank didn't just drop me off in front of the house. He did me the favor of not holding on to my arm again, but he was never more than two steps behind me. When we got to the apartment door, he opened it for me and motioned for me to enter.

He did a quick walk-through and obviously decided the environment was friendly, because he walked past me towards the front door.

"I'll be outside if you need anything." He said courtly and left. I didn't even get a chance to ignore him, he didn't wait for an answer.

I was furious, but I didn't feel like throwing a temper tantrum for myself.

"Fine!" I yelled at the closed door.

My cell phone chirped again, this time it was Ranger. I realized I could act really childish and scream all my frustration at him or I could ignore him and wait for my temper to calm down before I talked to him. I decided on the latter. Probably he was just going to laugh at me if I went all PMS anyway.

Now I was faced with a different dilemma: What to do?

I was supposed to sit opposite Joe for an intimate lunch, not stand in my apartment, with a goon to watch me outside the door. Yes, I conceded, the goon was there for my protection, and he meant well.

I sighed and called Joe, letting him know I was okay and sorry I had missed our date. When he asked what had happened I told him I had to wrestle an uncooperative skip and we had ended up rolling in garbage. He accepted that and promised to call me later. Okay, that was taken care of. And the fib had come out very convincingly. One highlight in this rotten day.

I strolled into the kitchen and pulled the ice cream out of the freezer, since it seemed too early for beer and I needed to soothe my nerves.

It turned out I needed a lot of soothing, the tub was half gone by the time I had the self-control to put the lid back on.

I had just decided to spend some time channel surfing when my cell phone chirped again. Taking a deep breath when I read the display, I flipped it open.

"Talk." A Ranger-line, how original.

"Heard about what happened. Sorry babe." Ranger started, but he didn't sound sorry at all.

"Your men bullied me back to the apartment!" I said, not quite able to keep my voice down. I knew I should have waited to talk to him.

There was a short pause in which I thought I heard him sigh.

"It's for your own protection. The area was compromised."

He was right, of course. But I'd have rather bit off my tongue before I admitted that.

"You still there?" Ranger asked when I didn't say anything.

My ego was still bruised and my inner diva was jonesing for a fight. I took a deep breath so I wouldn't lash out.

"Yes." I said simply.

"Do you want me to come over?"

Yes, I did. But I didn't think that was such a good idea. By the time he'd get to me, I would have gotten over my anger, and then I'd probably feel silly. Then I may have felt the need to apologize or something, and that was out of the question.

"No." I finally replied and disconnected. Ha! I had hung up on Ranger! See how he liked that!

I wanted to pump my fist when the phone rang again a moment later. But it wasn't Ranger.

It was Cal, reporting that the Beetle was back in front of the apartment. I asked snippily if I was free to take it anywhere I liked and he told me he hadn't received any orders to that extend. Whatever.

I didn't know why I was being so difficult, when I knew I should be grateful for being protected. Something inside me just wanted to rebel against the authority that allowed no argument. And I had really wanted a new outfit.

Ranger showed up twenty minutes later. I was lounging in front of the TV and didn't get up when he entered. I was sulking.

I felt his eyes on me when he sat down on the second couch but kept my eyes on the TV.

"You hung up on me."

"Felt like the thing to do."

"Don't do it again."

Or what? He'd spank me? I tried really hard to stay calm, but I had never been good at taking orders, no matter how reasonable they were, and I wanted to…well, I didn't know what I wanted to do, except for stomping my feet and pouting.

Ranger picked up the remote and turned the TV off. I was about to protest when I saw the look on his face. It was stone cold.

"You were shot at." He said.

"There were shots fired. I don't know if they were directed at me." What a stupid thing to say. Like, I really believed people were just out for a shoot in Trenton? Like you hear gunshots every day?

"Cal and Tank were there to protect you. That's what they did. You aren't in a position to question them."

Oh, that was harsh. It was what I deserved for making a scene, but harsh. And it hurt.

"What position am I in, exactly?" I barely managed to keep eye contact, I could already feel tears sting.

"Your job is to lure the Senor out. You are taking a calculated risk. If the stakes are too high, you retreat. I thought that was a simple enough concept." He said calmly.

Did he mean simple enough even for me to understand or was I putting words into his mouth? Did I really feel up to argue with him? His self-control was so much better than mine, we weren't even on the same chart. I'd make a fool out of myself and he could end up realizing I wasn't worth the effort after all.

"Any time you want to quit, just say the word."

There it was, he was already thinking it. I didn't know if he was aware how much his words had stung me.

"No." I finally said.

"No what?"

"No, I don't want to quit." I had a hard time getting the words out through my clenched teeth.

"Then get ready. Tank will be waiting for you at eight o'clock, you're going out."

"Where am I going?"

"It's time to up the stakes, invade his territory. You're going to his club."

What? I thought I was supposed to retreat? I looked at Ranger in utter confusion.

He got up. "You will be wired. Hal and Bobby will already be inside when you get there, Tank will stay outside. Like I said, calculated risk. It's time to take the game to his playground."

Nice of him to share it with me. Way to put me in my place. Take it or leave it. He didn't ask if I felt ready for it.

"I have nothing to wear." Why did I pick the most irrelevant thing to say and always ended up being the dunce?

Ranger just looked at me, I thought anybody else's jaw would have dropped.

It was true though, I had only black clothes that could be arranged for a bar or a restaurant, but wouldn't let any bouncer in the western hemisphere let me pass.

"Then we'll get you something to wear." Ranger said, probably barely resisting an eye roll.

"You're taking me to the mall?" This could be fun!

"No."

And he flipped his phone open and dialed a number. He walked into the kitchen as he talked, and I couldn't make out what he said. I heard him open and close the fridge door.

He returned a few minutes later and clipped his phone back on his belt.

"You're having clothes brought here." I said, it wasn't a question.

"We can't risk the exposure at this point. We couldn't keep a close watch at a mall. I have all my men assigned otherwise."

His eyes softened a little and I relaxed. He was explaining himself, not just barking orders anymore. Okay, he hadn't barked before, but he had been court.

"Okay." I conceded. "Where will you be?"

"I'll be in the wind, babe."

That made me smile despite myself, and Ranger stepped closer.

"Do you have any other questions?"

I did, but not about the evening. I figured he'd let me know if he wanted me to do anything specific once I was there. I did however want to know how he felt about me. How much of me was his job?

"Who will be my date?"

I thought it was a valid question. Who goes to a club by herself?

"You won't have a date. I need you to appear unprotected."

My first 'undercover' job and I wasn't even going to have a handsome merry man by my side, I thought, but didn't say. I was still trying to smooth the waves with Ranger, whining didn't seem like a good idea.

"Okay." I said.

Ranger almost-nodded. "I'll be back before you leave. Tank is bringing you some clothes. Call me if you have any questions." For a beat, I thought he was going to lean in and hug or kiss me, but then he straightened and left.

Since my options were limited, I decided to make the best out of the situation. At the very least, I'd get to go out. I'd get to wear new clothes. Think of it as an adventure, I told myself.

An hour and some sitcom reruns later, Tank showed up. He was carrying a duffel bag and placed it on the floor in front of me.

"I brought you clothes."

I was eager to show him I was over my little tantrum, so I smiled "Who picked them?"

"I did. I was given the size and occasion." There may have been the hint of a smile around his lips, but I wasn't sure.

Oh, this would be interesting. I couldn't wait to find out what Tank would pick for me to wear at a nightclub! I thanked him and he left.

Curious, I opened the bag. I knew Ranger miraculously knew my size, so I wasn't concerned the clothes would fit, I couldn't wait to find out what Tank saw me in for a night out.

As it turned out, Tank didn't see me in much. There was a dress, dark green satin, with a plunging neckline that would need some work to hide a bra. When I held the dress, it looked like it would comfortably come down to my thighs, but as I tried it on, I quickly found out it barely covered my ass. I couldn't decide whether I was flattered or insulted by Tank's choice. Good thing I had spent a lot of time at the gym the past few months.

In addition to the dress, the bag held a pair of shoes, black high-heeled pumps, and a clutch purse. I didn't know how it fit in, but there was also a red terry robe.

There was plenty of time to get ready, it was just past 5 PM, so I took my time. After I took a shower, I spent an insane amount of time on my hair and make-up and finally squeezed myself into the dress. It didn't leave room for underwear of any kind.

'Slutty', I decided when I looked in the mirror. 'Sexy-slutty' was my second impression. The green of the dress brought out the color of my eyes perfectly, and I wasn't so sure anymore that Tank had been telling the truth about picking the dress. What guy would think to match eye color?

I put on the shoes and tried to walk in them. Usually I didn't have problems in heels, but these were FMPs, new heights for me, so I took them for a test walk around the apartment.

When Ranger knocked at a quarter of eight, I was ready. My make-up was classy to offset the sluttiness of the dress, my hair was piled up on my head with a few curls escaping to frame my face. Ranger let his eyes wander down my body slowly, but didn't say anything and his expression never changed.

"Well?" I asked "What do you think?"

"It'll work."

Not exactly what I had wanted to hear, but what had I expected when fishing for compliments?

I got uncomfortable under his stare, mostly because I felt self-conscious without underwear and his eyes seemed to undress me. At the very least, I wanted him to smile at the sight of me.

He had a metal briefcase with him and disappeared into the kitchen with it. Moments later he reappeared with a cable contraption in his hands. Now he was smiling. "This should be interesting." He said, eyeing me.

He managed to get me wired, by all means. I was afraid the wires wouldn't stick to me because I would break out in a sweat. Ranger's fingertips kept brushing against my skin, igniting tiny fires that would spread fast. I had to concentrate on breathing evenly.

Eventually, he managed to hide the little microphone low between my breasts and I had almost passed out when he had placed it there.

He took a step back and checked his handiwork. I was glad the hot traces his fingers had left weren't visible.

"You ready?" He asked, offering his arm. I took it and smiled.

"I was born ready!"


	20. Chapter 20

Wow, are you along for the ride? Chapter number 20! I am unable to say how many more there will be, there is no end in sight…

I appreciate all your reviews and suggestions, you guys are so nice to me!

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: Could be anywhere from PG13 to R. Who knows anymore?

Disclaimer: They're all JE's characters, except for Sandra. And no one would pay me for Sandra.

Out of my Mind Chapter 20

Tank was driving, Lester was sitting next to me, telling me the details of the evening. Ranger had seen me to the car, then he had disappeared, presumably to be the wind. Whatever that meant. Lester had introduced himself to me with a smile and I had found him easy to warm up to. He was handsome, which seemed to be a prerequisite to working at RangeMan, in an almost Hispanic way, sort of exotic.

Whether he made an effort or it came naturally, he didn't use military-speak, I understood what he was saying. Also, it was a simple plan: Tank and Lester were going to take me out to dinner. In case anyone saw me before I went to the club, they would only ever see me with the two. As a concession to the 'civilian' activities, both were dressed in slacks and shirts, rather than their RangeMan uniform. After dinner, we'd make our way over to the Senor's club, 'El Diablo'. Najar owned the club legally, but police suspected that he used it for anything from money laundering to gun running, they just couldn't prove anything. RangeMan had been hired to find something on the Senor that would stick in a court room when I had come along. Now they needed me to cause some waves, maybe get lucky and arrest one of Najar's men who would cooperate.

Once at the club, I was to mingle, make my presence known. Hopefully provoke a reaction. That was it.

Lester showed me a picture so I would be able to identify the target: the Senor reminded me of Edward James Olmos, slim built, black hair and brown eyes, a mustache. Not ugly, not attractive, no super-mean eyes or something.

We stopped at a Bertucci's for dinner. All heads turned in our direction as we entered. I couldn't imagine an environment where Tank wouldn't stick out like the proverbial sore thumb. He was taller and wider than anyone. Lester was shorter than Tank but still over 6' tall.

We talked a little over dinner, but mostly Lester and Tank exchanged work related information.

When Tank excused himself to use the men's room or save the world, I couldn't wait any longer.

"Did Tank really pick out this dress?" I asked Lester.

He almost sprayed the sip of water he had just taken over the table in amusement. "Is that what he told you?"  
I nodded.

"He picked the dress up, it's true. He picked it up from Ella, the housekeeper! As far as I know, she was the one who bought it."

I laughed. That made a lot more sense actually. The act of Tank picking through racks of dresses and shoes was hard to imagine.

"I had only my reflection to judge, what do you think of it?" I turned a little in my seat to let him judge and blushed as his eyes traveled from my face down my body.

"I like it, but if you were my girl, I wouldn't let you out the door in it." He said and drank some more water.

"Why not?"

"Well, for starters, there's not enough dress to leave anything to the imagination. Like I said, I don't mind that, but…and you are not wearing any underwear…"

I was glad I was already beet-red, at least it couldn't get any worse. Tank returned at that moment and must have caught the end of the conversation but didn't say anything.

"Tank, you be the judge." Lester offered "Would Lin wear this dress if she were here with you?"

I so regretted I had asked Lester for his opinion. I was going to parade in this dress in less than an hour and it would have helped to have some self-confidence left.

"I'd sure hope so." Tank said "It's sexy!"

"Yeah, but…" and then they got into a discussion about the sexiness of dresses and women in general.

By the time the check was paid, I thought we had established that I looked good in the dress and I was sure I wouldn't miss the dress if it meant to be Lester's girl. That led me to an internal debate about Joe and Ranger. I couldn't figure out why Ranger was giving me mixed signals, warm and friendly one moment, then stone cold the next. I was deep in my thoughts when we arrived at the El Diablo, successfully distracted.

Lester gave me some last minute instructions about everybody's location (except for Ranger's), checked that I had my panic button on me, and wished me luck. The panic button was on me, all right, but I didn't disclose where exactly it was. Tough to hide a gizmo when you're not wearing panties.

I got out of the car and Tank left; he was supposed to stay in the parked car unless there was a problem, while Lester's job was to monitor the surveillance equipment from a van parked in the back.

Making sure that my dress was covering everything it could, I took a deep breath and stepped into the club. 'Showtime' was the cheesy line I had in mind.

El Diablo was definitely upscale, not the kind of club I usually frequent. Considering that I normally only go clubbing when I'm visiting Jess in New York, that wasn't saying much.

My attire definitely fit right in, women were dressed in mini-skirts and cocktail dresses, men wore suits or silk shirts with dress slacks. Lasers were illuminating the dance floor, but very few couples were dancing, it was too early for that.

I made my way over to one of the bars, it was backlit with blue lights and the stools in front of it looked trendy but uncomfortable. There were two more bars in the club, and I had tried to spot Bobby or Hal around them, but if they were there, I didn't see them. Maybe I should have taken the time to get to know them beforehand, I was looking mostly for men that looked like the worked for RangeMan.

Booths were lining the dance floor, and small round tables dotted the adjacent areas.

The club was about half-full, and since it wasn't even 10 PM on a Friday night, I was guessing it would fill up to capacity.

On the far wall, an area was curtained off ceiling to floor, only vague shapes were visible behind it and a guy in a black suit was standing where two curtains met, his hands crossed over his groin. He looked like a bodyguard.

I ordered a gin and tonic, plastered a wide smile on my face and swiveled my stool to see and be seen.

A middle-aged man arrived shortly after my drink. He took my smile as in invitation and sat down next to me. He was a little overweight, about 5'10' with receding blond hair and deep acne scars on his reddish face. He was wearing a dark blue suit and a crisp white shirt with the tie a little loose.

"Hi." He yelled to be heard over the music, "Come here often?"

I had to resist an eye roll. That was about the oldest line in the book. If I hadn't been 'on the job', I would have left him behind in a heartbeat. But I was supposed to mingle.

"Hi." I smiled back, "It's my first time here."

He nodded at that. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"New York." I confirmed.

"I'm Sam." And he stuck his hand out. "Melanie." No reason to share my real or made-up persona du jour.

His grip was firm and lasted a little too long for my taste.

"Can I buy you a drink?" I raised my glass, indicating that I had a full drink, thank you.

Trying to find out if he was anyone of interest I asked him what he did for a living.

"I'm a lawyer." He said simply. And he looked like he was pretty proud of it. I didn't have anything witty to say to that, so I nodded again.

"Do you come here a lot?" Okay, that was sort of lame, but I really didn't want to talk to him.

"My client owns this club."

Hello. Sam the lawyer worked for the Senor. Bingo on the first try!

"Wow!" I said, hoping I had sounded impressed.

"Yeah." He nodded, obviously very impressed with himself.

I took a look around to show interest. "You must be very good." As if the interior of a nightclub could be any indication of his talents.

Sam seemed to buy it though, he looked pleased. I was pleased too, meeting him meant I didn't have to throw myself at a number of random men, hoping they'd lead me to Najar.

Unfortunately it meant I had to throw myself at Sam, and I wasn't nearly drunk enough for that.

I turned to face Sam and crossed my legs, leaning a little closer so he'd have full view of my cleavage and I didn't have to continue shouting. "It's going to be busy here tonight, don't you think?"

He took his eyes off my chest and smiled. "Don't worry. If it gets too crowded, there's a VIP room in the back. With me, you won't have a problem getting in." He put his hand on my knee and I almost slapped him. Ick!

Fortunately, my purse vibrated at that moment, so I excused myself to answer the phone.

It was Joe, apologizing for the late call back.

"I had to work until just now. Where are you?"

"At a club with some friends, I don't know the name of the place." I didn't want him to show up. As much as I wanted to see him, I had to play my part first.

"Well, it sounds like a good time. I'll call you tomorrow. Be careful!" And he disconnected. The club's atmosphere didn't really lend itself to intimate conversations, but I had still hoped for more from Joe. I decided to call him once I got back to the apartment and slid the phone back into my purse.

"Jealous boyfriend?" Sam asked, winking.

"No, just a friend." Unfortunately, that was the truth. I emptied my drink and turned towards Sam. "About that drink…"

A half hour later, Sam had bought me two cocktails and I was beginning to relax. He had pointed out various people in the crowd; apparently the who-is-who of Trenton was present.

Several men and some couples had approached Sam but didn't stay long after an initial greeting.

Sam's hand was resting on my knee and I was sure I was going to break out in hives. It wasn't him so much as the gesture, I didn't like to be fondled by strangers. I'd make an exception for Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp, but Sam was neither. And Joe and Ranger weren't strangers; they could have fondled me any time. I tried to imagine it was Ranger's hand on my knee, and that worked for a little bit.

"Would you like to dance?" Sam asked close to my ear when a slow song started, and I almost flinched.

"I thought you'd never ask." I purred, and Sam led me to the dance floor.

He didn't hold me as close as I had feared, but it was still uncomfortable. His dancing skills consisted of a slow two-step shuffle, but that was fine by me. I prayed his hand wouldn't wander down to my butt and tried to relax to the music.

The club was now pretty full, and between the music and the many voices, talking seemed impossible. I wondered if anything could be heard over my microphone, especially since my chest was pretty close to Sam's and due to the low neckline, the mike was pretty far down.

"Wanna get some air?" Sam shouted into my ear. I did, but not with him. The thought of his lips on mine made my skin crawl, and there was no doubt that was what he had in mind.

I shook my head "I like it here."

The song finally ended and was followed by the rhythmic thumping of a techno beat.

Sam took my hand and walked us off the floor, thankfully towards the back and not the door.

He led me to a small table close to the back area and held out a chair for me.

"It's a little quieter back here. Tom there," he nodded towards the goon at the entrance by the curtains "keeps an eye out for who gets to sit here. I get to sit wherever I want." He beamed at that and I felt a little sorry for him. There couldn't be much going on his life if he got a kick out of seating privileges at a nightclub. I wondered if they'd even let him in if he wasn't working for the boss. From what I had seen of the clientele, they preferred a younger, much more hip kind to be slurping down their overpriced drinks. But I played my part and smiled admiringly.

A young, skinny waitress appeared and Sam ordered champagne. Sam may be icky, I thought, but he wasn't cheap. Probably, that's what got him to talk to girls, if they'd let him get that far. It certainly wasn't his looks or his charms. Or his witty conversation, for that matter.

"The boss is not here yet." Sam said importantly. "I'll introduce you when he gets here."

I swallowed. I didn't know if I was to let it come that far, mostly my task was to be spotted by the Senor's goons, hoping word would carry back to him.

Being in a room with him might be pushing it.

The drinks arrived and I made a show of my excitement. Sam looked very pleased as he poured the glasses.

Lester had asked me to pick a safety word. Were I to mention the word, Tank would pull up in front of the entrance and Hal or Bobby would see to my safe exit. I didn't hesitate to pick 'rhubarb cake'. Whenever I was out with my friends, 'rhubarb cake' was the code to get you out of an uncomfortable situation. If a guy got too fresh, for example, you'd turn to your friend and say 'So, tell me about this new recipe for rhubarb cake you have.' That way, we would appear to be having an animated conversation, but we didn't have to think about what we said. It always worked. My choice made Lester's eyebrows rise slightly, but he didn't say anything.

I was thinking I'd utter the word if Sam suggested we join the Senor in the back room.

Sam was telling me about his fancy car and I was getting tired of faking interest.

"So the dealer told me his price, and I said 'It's a $250.000 car, who're ya gonna sell it to? You know I'm your only customer for it, you better sweeten the deal.' So he did."

"You have amazing powers of persuasion!" I gushed and thought 'gag me with a spoon'.

"What kind of car is it?"

Sam leaned back in his chair. "It's a Lamborghini…"

"Are you serious?" I bunched my hands to my chest theatrically "That's my favorite car!"

In the beginning, I was trying not to overdo it, but I quickly learned that Sam was clueless. He seemed to genuinely believe I was interested in him. Maybe I was just that good. Or maybe he was desperate, but I felt safe enough to lead the conversation to more interesting topics.

"So…what do you do for your boss? Are there a lot of law suits?" I was playing with the rim of my glass at looked at Sam through lowered lashes.

He laughed. "No, no, nothing like that. It's contract negotiation and a lot of other legal matters I wouldn't want to bore you with!" He took my hand away from the glass and held it.

"A beautiful girl like you should spend her time trying to think of ways to spend money, not worrying about where it comes from."

Since the only money I had came from where I made it, I cared about its origin a whole lot. But I pretended Sam had just shared some great wisdom and pushed on.

"That sounds mysterious! Are you saying I wouldn't want to spend it if I knew where it came from?"

He had begun to stroke my hand, and I was hoping he wouldn't turn it around and discover my rug burn-y palms.

"I'm asking why you would care. Would you like a diamond necklace less because you hadn't bought it with the fruit of hard labor?"

I would, actually. I felt bad if the checkout person gave me back too much change!

"Of course not!" I lied "I'd be too busy putting it on and showing it off!" And I let my finger glide over my bare collarbone. Sam's eyes followed the movement. "If anything, it's more exciting to imagine it came from a pirate's booty!"

"There are no pirates, Sweetheart." Sam said, as if he was telling me the Easter Bunny didn't lay eggs. "There are much more lucrative ways to get rich!"

Okay, it had been a long shot, and it hadn't worked. He wasn't going to let me in on a big dark secret. So I just smiled and nodded.

A small drove of men in the middle of the club caught my attention.

They were walking two-by-two, four of them altogether, with someone in their midst. They were moving towards the back. If I had to guess, I'd said the boss had arrived.

Sam noticed it too and stood.

"Ah, here he is. Come on, I'll introduce you!"

A nervous knot formed in my stomach as the group approached. I was torn between playing along and running like hell.

Sam straightened himself and smiled broadly. "Alejandro!" He yelled out, standing on the tips of his toes to be seen over the crowd. Shit! I tried to melt into the chair.

The goon in the front caught my eye, and I thought I saw him narrow his eyes. I got up slowly to stand in Sam's shadow, so that he would block me.

Sam must have thought I was jockeying for a better position, he half-turned and took me by the elbow.

"You know what?" I asked, gently pulling my arm out of his grip "I have to powder my nose real quick!"

It was the best I could think of and it took Sam by surprise, he had 'but' face, but released me. The man at the center of the drove was Najar and our eyes met when I was planning my speedy getaway. There was no recognition in his eyes, but when I turned to walk (not run, as I reminded myself) to safety, I thought I saw goon #1 lean down towards Najar. I didn't wait to find out if it he'd say something like 'This is the little senorita we've been trying to kill', I dove into the crowd.

"I'm leaving." I said into my cleavage, trying to get to the exit without running into any of the Senor's men, or Sam.

It was wall-to-wall people, and most were taller than me, but I had made some progress when and arm settled around my shoulder.

"Leaving so soon?" A voice spoke into my ear and I panicked as I turned to face the owner of the arm.

His big smile faltered when he saw the obviously disturbing look on my face. "Lindsay, I'm Bobby! Just thought you could use some help to find your way out."

Well, yeah, I could, but he had almost given me a heart attack! I had been focusing on putting as much distance between me and the Senor as possible, my worst fear was one of his bodyguards catching up to me. And Bobby chose that moment to get friendly! Probably I would have recognized Lester's voice, but I didn't even know Bobby!

He didn't wait for me to calm down, guiding me through the crowd. It was a lot easier for him to part the waves of people, the fact that he was about a foot taller than me probably helped.

We got to the exit and I almost ran the short distance to the waiting SUV.

Tank took off before I had closed the door, and I sunk into my seat with a sigh of relief, closing my eyes.

My heart was pounding wildly and I had started to sweat, but I was safe now, they couldn't get to me. With any luck, my exit hadn't been witnessed and they hadn't made Bobby.

My cell phone buzzed a few minutes into the ride, but I was too wired to answer it. I was trying to concentrate on breathing evenly and not giggle uncontrollably or something. Tank was driving and he checked the rearview mirror every so often. Probably to make sure I wasn't freaking out.

"I'm taking you home." He finally said and I jumped at his voice. "Debriefing will be at your place."

Aha. I didn't think of the place as 'my house', so it took me a moment to understand Tank. Oh, did he mean, like, everybody would gather at the apartment to review the evening? Oh please, no! I really didn't want to go through everything right away! The next morning, maybe, or possibly much later would be better.

Tank double-parked in front of the apartment building and opened the door for me. He saw me to the elevator, but didn't come in with me.

"Aren't you coming up?"

"The boss wants to see you." He said simply, nodded and took off.

Oh goody, a debriefing with Ranger. Lucky me!

Ranger pulled my door open when I had just inserted the key.

"How did it go?" He asked, his eyes traveling down my body in that way that made me blush again.

"Didn't you hear?" I was sure that if he hadn't been listening to the live show, he had been told everything there was to know by a merry man.

"I did, I want your version."

"Okay. Open up a beer for me, I'm just going to change into something more comfortable." And I went to the bedroom. I needed to use the bathroom and really take the shoes off. They were sexy, but not comfortable. I had been lucky not to trip in them.

I took off the dress, slipped into a RangeMan t-shirt and workout pants, and released my hair from the clip to pull it into a ponytail. Then I checked my make-up to make sure nothing was running. I was dressing down, not getting ready for bed!

"Feel better?" Ranger asked when I joined him in the living room and took my beer off the coffee table.

"Much." I admitted

We sat down next to each other facing the television and enjoyed our beers for a moment. Ranger turned on the TV and found a basketball game. And slowly, I calmed down.

A part of me dreaded the conversation about the evening's events, so I didn't say anything. I needed some time to sort it all in my head first.

Ranger surprised me by putting his arm around my shoulders and pulling me close.

"You did good tonight." He said, kissing my temple and resting his face on my head.

The compliment felt good, the kiss felt even better. I smiled and leaned into him.

"Thanks. I had help."

I felt him smile. "So did I." he said, and I wasn't quite sure how to take that.

The beer mixed with the champagne and the gin and made me feel quite happy now that the panic was gone; Ranger's body so close to mine helped even more.

I let my hand slip onto his thigh.

"There's this one thing I really need your help with…" I whispered as I lifted my head and closed the distance between our heads. He met me halfway and fireworks exploded behind my closed eyelids when his mouth opened and our tongues met.


	21. Chapter 21

Hee, my story is old enough to drink legally. It started out as a short story and took on a life of its own.

Your feedback is keeping this going, thank you so much!

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: Could be anywhere from PG13 to R. Who knows anymore?

Disclaimer: They're all JE's characters, except for Sandra. And no one would pay me for Sandra.

Out of my Mind Chapter 21

I woke up with the bedroom bathed in sunlight. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and my stomach felt squishy. Sure signs of a hangover. I couldn't even remember how much I had drunk the night before.

There was something unusual about the way the sheets clung to my body. I sucked in a gulp of air when I realized what it was: I was naked.

And then the previous night came back to me in hazy details: Dinner…El Diablo…Sam…the Senor…Ranger! The images got a little fuzzy after that.

It was 8:30 now, and I remembered getting back from the club before one AM…then there was beer…and a sudden courage that could only have come from it.

Then I had practically thrown myself at Ranger as if I was still on the 'job', trying to attract men at the nightclub. He hadn't complained though, that much I remembered. And his kiss had me hot and bothered and wanting more, his hands had seemed to be all over me.

But that was on the couch, how had I ended up in bed?

I frowned in an effort to put the pieces together. Usually I didn't suffer blackouts from drinking, but it can take my brain a bit to get started after I wake up.

There was no one in the bed with me. I wrapped the sheet around me and went looking in the living room, no one there either. I was alone.

Coffee would help, I decided, and patted into the kitchen to brew some.

And as I watched the brown goodness drip into the pot, I remembered: Ranger's hands on me. Then his lips on me…everywhere. Clothes flying, heavy breathing on my part.

And his pager. The little annoying beep that had halted all action. Ranger had glanced at it, sworn colorfully, and gotten up. I couldn't remember what he had said as he left, but judging by the last kiss, it had been something nice.

I must have fallen asleep on the couch and wandered into bed sometime during the night.

I groaned and buried my face in the crook of my arm on the kitchen counter. Way to go. Make out with two men, never make it past second base with either of them. Nice going. I was Slutty the Bounty Hunter wannabe. I didn't consider myself a woman of high morals, and I wasn't dating Joe or Ranger, but it still felt wrong, in a 'what would your mother think' kind of way.

And I had never gotten a chance to ask Ranger about his hot-cold behavior before I had jumped his bones!

The cell phone brought me back into the present. Someone had taken it out of my purse and put it on the coffee table, and I know it hadn't been me. I picked it up and answered it.

"Hey Cupcake!" Joe greeted cheerfully.

Oh God. What was it about these two? Did they call each other after every interaction they had with me to ensure they were taking even turns? How was I supposed to think straight if I made out with Ranger one minute and was a cupcake the next?

"Hi Joe." I didn't have a nickname for him.

"Sorry to be calling so early," he apologized "but I'm at the airport, about to leave for Miami…"

"Is this about the Senor?" I asked eagerly.

"Yes, actually. How did you know?"  
"Lucky guess?" And I was getting mixed up, the Senor had been at the forefront of my mind, but I hadn't talked to Joe about him much.

"Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I'll be out of town for a few days. And I remembered I never got a chance to make it up to you for the other night."

Aw, that was sweet. Of course neither of them would do me the favor of becoming a complete asshole, that would be too easy. If I didn't want to move to Utah, I'd have to make a decision soon, before I took things any further. I liked casual sex as much as the next person, but I was unable to have a one-night-stand with a man I cared for.

"That's okay," I said "I know you've been busy."

"Busy is an understatement. We've had more murders this past week than all year so far."

I didn't doubt that. Being in Trenton was like watching CSI.

"I'll call you when I get back, okay? And then we'll spend some time together, I promise."

"Okay. Have a nice flight. And be careful." I sounded like my mother.

"I will. Take care."

The line was dead when I told him to take care too.

Here was the thing: I was a slut. I wanted both Ranger and Joe and I felt really bad about it.

And what if I chose one and he decided I was just a good distraction? But did I even want more?

I made my head hurt with those thoughts. It was pointless. I was just going to distance myself from both of them and consider myself lucky to have found two friends. Well, I was going to try anyway. My usual course of action when I couldn't make up my mind, say in the shoe store, was to get both, not choose. So this time, I was going to walk away from the selection and find another store altogether.

I had Ranger expected to call during the morning. I still hadn't heard from him by the time I was showered and dressed and it was close to noon. Oddness.

Tank hadn't checked in either, so I assumed they had had their meeting without me.

I almost dropped the phone when it finally rang.

"Hey rhubarb cake!" Lester said by way of greeting "How's it going?"

"It's all good," I said "I was wondering why I didn't hear from you guys…"

"Yeah, thinks worked out pretty nicely last night. You did well!"

It felt good to hear that. I had been terrified to screw things up, and the way the evening had ended at the club, I wasn't so sure.

"Did you get any new information?" I asked.

"The guy you talked to is Samuel Daltrey, Najar's lawyer. He's a good lead."

"Do you think he could know anything incriminating?" And if he did, I hope I wasn't going to be tagged to get it.

"I'm sure of it." Lester laughed, "He's a lawyer! But there's not much chance he'd be willing to talk about it."

He went on to tell me I was free to go about my way, they would be following me like the day before, and that I should be careful. He would be checking in with me later. Then he disconnected without saying goodbye and I glared at the phone. Were phone manners so hard?

And speaking of manners, why hadn't Ranger been the one to talk and tell me about the evening's results?

'Good way to distance yourself, yearning for a call' I scolded myself and sighed. I hadn't really given much thought on how to spend the day, I was lounging on the couch watching television. It was Saturday, so the bonds office would be closed by now. Joe was on his way to Miami and Ranger…well I didn't know what Ranger was doing, but I had promised myself to stay away from him. So my options were limited, since I didn't know anyone else.

I decided to finally check my email and maybe just surf, so I went into the bedroom and turned the laptop on.

An hour later, I had deleted all spam, replied to all messages, and told Jess I was vacationing in South Carolina. I really wanted to tell her everything, but I didn't know where to start anymore.

Then I had played Snood.

Now I was getting antsy. I turned off the laptop and stretched.

Well, I thought, might as well get some endorphins into me the non-sexual way, I could really use some exercise.

I changed into the sweats and sneakers that had come with the load of clothes and was ready to go. There was no room for the phone, but I clipped the panic button to my bra. I wasn't likely to panic on my run, but I was done taking chances.

Downstairs, I stretched and looked out for a RangeMan-Mobile. I didn't see any black cars, but I wondered how they'd decide to follow me when I was on foot. That made me smile and I took off in a slow jog.

Running always gives me time to think, although I had to pay more attention to where I was going in the unfamiliar neighborhood and I didn't have my iPod with me to listen to tunes.

An hour later, I was back at the apartment building drenched in sweat and exhausted, but I felt better. I looked around, no merry man in sight. Curious. How did they manage to hide so well?

I emerged from the shower with a plan for the rest of the day. I was going to revisit Paola and convince her to let me bring her in, and then I was going to pay Althaus a visit and see if he was in a cooperative mood.

The food fairy had stocked my fridge before I had moved in, and I threw together a sandwich and washed it down with a soda. Then I changed into my serious bounty hunter outfit and clipped on all the necessities. I thought I looked pretty cool.

I got into the beetle and took off. Before I got to the first corner, I saw a black SUV peel away from the curb behind me in the rearview mirror. So they were there after all.

I had to consult my map to find Paola Minetti's house again, and waited in the car parked in front of it for a few minutes, to make sure the SUV had followed me here and to check the area. Well, check it as best as I could, I had no illusions about being able to spot someone who was trying to hide.

I locked the car and walked to the front door, a polite smile on my face as I knocked. There was no answer. I knocked a couple more times for good measure, but I didn't hear any sounds behind the door. Maybe she was at work, I thought, and the promise of a nice latte while I checked that possibility put a bounce in my step.

I took only one wrong turn backtracking my way from the day before, and sure enough, Paola was behind the counter of the Star Bucks.

I got in line and patiently waited my turn. Paola was in the order fulfillment area, not behind the cash register, so I walked over like any other customer, waiting for my coffee.

Recognition kicked in the moment Paola handed me my cup, and she looked slightly panicked.

"What are you doing here?" she stage-whispered, "I'm working!"

"You need to leave early today." I told her calmly.

"Or you gonna shoot at me again?"

I sighed. "I didn't shoot at you yesterday. That was an unfortunate coincidence. I wouldn't shoot you. And if you cooperate, I won't even use my cuffs, you can tell your boss whatever you like and leave with me."

Paola seemed to consider this. Truth was, I didn't feel much like causing a scene, and I'd feel really bad if I'd be the reason she lost her job. She had been arrested for assault, she had gotten into a fight with a fellow shopper at a supermarket over some item, and the other woman had pressed charges. It didn't get much more minor than that, she was probably not even facing jail time.

Paola's shoulders slumped and she looked defeated. Damn, I was good!

"Okay," she said, "My shift is almost over anyway. Can you wait?"

I didn't want to take the chance of having her disappear into a back room and shook my head "Gotta be now or I'll reconsider my offer."

She sighed and turned towards another girl behind the counter, talking to her while she took her apron off.

We walked out to my car in silence, I didn't know what I would do if Paola decided to bolt. I definitely wouldn't shoot her, and I didn't know how good my reflexes were if I had to hold on to her. I needn't have worried, she got into the passenger seat and looked sullen.

Every now and then, I was able to spot the SUV, but mostly they disappeared from my view. Still, it felt good to know they were there.

I dropped Paola off at the police station, collected my body receipt and avoided her eyes when she asked me how long she'd have to stay. Vinnie would probably not bail her out until Monday; I hadn't considered that when I started out.

She was my second recovery, and I felt pretty good about that. This bounty hunter business really wasn't all that hard, if you didn't start out pissing off a mob boss. I could see myself doing it fulltime, it definitely didn't lack variety. Of course I'd have to move on to higher bonds, and thus more dangerous individuals, but by then I may have gotten the hang of it.

My luck didn't continue on to Althaus. He wasn't at home, and the garage listed as his place of employment was closed for the weekend.

On the bright side, I now had two body receipts to cash in on Monday when I'd be at the office for more FTA's. It occurred to me that maybe I should spend more time on trying to get back to my real home, to my own world, but I didn't feel like it. Planning ahead had never been my forte.

I decided I had spent enough time being seen and called it a day.

I found my way back to my street with only minor difficulties and slammed hard on the brakes when I got close to my building.

A fire truck was parked in front of it and police cars had blocked off the street. Black smoke was billowing towards the sky; I was unable to see where it originated because my view of the house was blocked.

I thunked my head on the steering wheel. 'Not again!' I thought. There was a chance a fire had broken out in one of the other apartments, but I didn't have much hope.

I flinched when there was a knock at the driver's side window and scowled at Tank when I rolled down the window.

"You scared the shit out of me!"

"Pull over to the side and come with me." He said, not looking sorry at all.

I did as I was told, parked the Beetle and followed Tank to the SUV.

A police scanner was squawking through static, and Lester had the window rolled down, his elbow resting on the door.

He nodded a hello when Tank opened the back door for me, and I got in.

Lester took off the moment Tank had taken his seat in the front.

"Was the fire in my apartment?" I asked. What a silly question! 'No, the Merry Men were just carting you off to buy you dinner, dumbass!' Sane!Sandra spoke up in my head.

"Came over the radio while we were en route." Tank said, "We thought maybe we could get here before the uniforms, that's why I didn't tell you to stop."

I leaned back into the seat. This was getting old, two fires in one week. Now I was glad I hadn't gotten around to buying new clothes.

"Do you think they thought I was home?"

"No way of knowing. And we can't go in to check how the fire was started." Lester said and shot my a sympathetic look through the rearview mirror. "Try not to let it get to you. For now, we'll take you back to RangeMan. Let's figure it out from there."

I was grateful to have someone else make the decisions for me. If I had been by myself, I would have been crumbling into a ball of sobbing sadness. It felt good to be taken care off.

"Do you guys have pizza?" It was my attempt at thinking positive.

Lester smiled at me in the mirror "I think that can be arranged."

We arrived at the RangeMan offices and took the elevator upstairs to the control room.

Hal and Bobby looked up from their post at the monitors when we entered and Bobby smiled.

"Good news, fire bug! They just picked up a guy that may have started the fire!"

I didn't see how that was good news, but Tank and Lester seemed pleased.

The elevator doors pinged open and all eyes cut to a spot behind me. Didn't take a genius to figure out Ranger had arrived, all merry men stood or sat straighter. I looked over my shoulder and saw Ranger approach.

He didn't look at me as he passed.

"Everybody but security in the conference room. Now." He advised, not waiting for comments. I assumed I was included in 'everybody' and made my way into the conference room behind Tank.

Ranger was at the computer and the big screen was lit.

I took the seat furthest away from him and tried not to stare at him. Was he ignoring me?

He typed in a few commands and a mug shot was projected onto the screen, a white guy with brown hair and dark eyes, his height stopping just short of the 6' mark.

"Christophe Lamberti." Ranger said, "A file as long as my…arm."

Bobby snorted at that, but quickly stopped when Ranger cut his eyes to him. I figured Ranger would have used a different word if I hadn't been in the room.

"Got picked up a block from Lin's running a red light. Cops found everything you need to start a fire but the matches in his back seat."

He pressed a button and another photo appeared. Two men talking in front of a car, one of them looked like the Senor, the other was Lamberti.

"We got him talking to Najar, so we can assume he's high up enough to have direct contact. The good news is, if he's stupid enough to get caught, he may be easy enough to talk to."

I had some ideas what Ranger meant by 'talking', but I didn't say anything. Everybody's eyes were on the screen in front of us.

"We'll be notified when he places his phone call. Court is not in session, but he may get a lawyer to bail him out before Monday. In any case, he's probably not going to say much while in custody. That's where we come in."

The next image came up, a file photo of Sam Daltrey.

"With any luck, Daltrey will be his lawyer of choice, thanks to Lin," he briefly looked in my direction, "we were able to follow him and get his address. He's being watched."

A map showed up on the screen and Ranger used a laser pointer to mark some spots.

"He'll need to show up in person, and whether Lamberti accompanies him out of jail or takes off alone, we'll be on him as soon as he leaves the courthouse."

He assigned positions and everyone seemed to know what they were supposed to do, there were no questions.

The plan was to snag Lamberti as soon as he left jail and persuade him to share information he wouldn't tell the cops.

That much I understood, but I didn't catch all the code words that were used for everybody's tasks, so I knew the 'what' but not the 'how'. Since I didn't get an assignment, I didn't bother asking for clarification.

"We'll move as soon as we get word, I need everybody on stand-by. Dismissed."

We all filed out of the room, only Ranger stayed behind.

I felt pretty useless standing in the control room, so I checked with Lester if I was to use 'my' old guest quarter on the fourth floor.

He nodded and offered to walk me down, but I thanked him and declined. I thought he had done enough for me already.

The good news was, I had clothes on my back this time and all my cool equipment. The bad news was, I had once again lost all my cosmetics and hair stuff. I wasn't that vain, but I needed certain basics to feel comfortable. Like a hairbrush and mascara. I didn't know if I could just leave or if I had to announce my departure, so I hesitated in the hallway for a moment.

Ranger stepped out of the conference room and our eyes met. He closed the distance between us, never breaking eye contact.

"Are you all right?"

Oh good, the friendly Ranger. I didn't quite know what mood he was in until he spoke. I nodded.

"I wasn't in the apartment when the fire started." I said unnecessarily. As if Ranger wouldn't know.

"It was still another attempt to kill you." He said softly.

I nodded again and wished he hadn't brought that up. I was trying hard to categorize the fire as a mere scare. And I was getting uncomfortable standing so close to Ranger; the previous night's scenario started replaying in my mind.

"I…um…need to run some errands." I mumbled, pressing the elevator's 'Down' button, focusing my eyes on it.

"Not a good idea, Babe."

I had to take a deep breath before I could look at him again.

"Why not?"

"I have every single man assigned, I can't have you watched when you leave the building."

I didn't know the area very well, but I knew there were inner city streets with stores nearby.

"I won't be long, and I'll stay close."

Range shook his head almost imperceptibly and didn't say anything. It seemed girlish to tell him I needed lipstick and hairspray in the face of an 'all men on deck' crisis. The truth was, I wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, the thought of just sitting on my hands in the studio annoyed me.

"I'll only be a half hour." I tried.

The elevator door opened before us.

"No." Ranger simply said and put a halting hand on my arm.

"Come with me. I'll have Ella run out for you. It's safer that way."

Not much I could say to argue, and I didn't want to provoke Ranger further. I let out a defeated breath of air and he led me into the elevator, waved his key fob and pressed the 7 button.

I was wondering if he was waiting for us to be 'off camera' and alone before he'd say something about our make-out session or if he was going to ignore what had happened. And I didn't know which option I preferred. The squishy feeling was back in my stomach and my head started to hurt. I don't handle confrontations very well.

Ranger hadn't said a word by the time we entered his apartment, and I couldn't come up with anything to say either. I knew that sooner or later, I would say something, just to end the silence. I prayed it wouldn't be anything dumb.

A woman stood at the dining table, placing silverware and glasses. She looked up when we came in and smiled warmly.

"Ella, I'd like you to meet Lindsay. Lindsay is joining me for dinner this evening." Ranger said.

I smiled and took Ella's outstretched hand, and we both said "Nice to meet you." at the same time. She laughed at that and asked us to sit down, she would be back in a minute. I glanced at the table and saw it was only set for one; Ranger hadn't expected company.

He put a hand at the small of my back and nudged me towards the table.

"Go ahead, have a seat. I'll go get us something to drink."

I was hoping he meant whiskey, I needed something strong if I was going to make it through dinner with him. 'Remember,' I told myself 'you're just friends. Nothing is going to happen. Ranger looks like a Cuban sex god, but stay away!'

Yeah, right. As if I'd be able to do anything when Ranger had me in his arms. I was trying to remember why I had resolved to distance myself from him. What a stupid idea…

Ranger returned with our drinks and took his seat opposite from me. "To better days." He toasted and I joined him. The whisky burned going down, but I took a second sip anyway. If I got drunk, I wouldn't mind falling off the no-Ranger wagon so much.

Ella knocked a few minutes later, a tray of food in her hand.

"I hope you like Greek cuisine." She said as she placed bread, a bowl of tzatziki, salad, rice and a platter of different meats on the table.

"I love it." I assured her, and my stomach grumbled in response.

She asked Ranger if there was anything else he'd need, and he said he'd need her to get a few things, he'd bring a list down shortly.

Ella nodded. "Well, enjoy your meal. It was really nice to meet you, Lindsay." she said and left.

I cleared my throat "She's a wonderful woman."

"Yes, she takes good care of me."

I filled my plate and started eating, downing first my glass of whisky and then the red wine Ella had poured. The food was heavenly.

I kept my eyes down, but I saw Ranger looking at me out of the corner of my eye. It was cowardly of me, but I really didn't know what to say.

After dinner, I excused myself to use the bathroom. I washed my hands and sat on the closed toilet to gain some composure. Okay, I hadn't him expected to hug and kiss me hello or to make googely eyes at me, but I hadn't expected him to pretend nothing had happened either. Then again, I wasn't much better. Maybe I'd just tell him I was tired and flee to the fourth floor.

Ranger had cleared the table and was still in the kitchen when I got out of the powder room.

"You wanna write that list for Ella now? She'll get you what you need."

"Why can't I just go myself?"

He turned around, drying his hands on a dishtowel.

"Because you are not leaving alone until this is over."

"Then come with me, for Ted's sake. All I need is some…things, it won't take long."

"I can't leave, I'm due back downstairs. Can't you just once just accept my decision?"  
He didn't say 'order' but it felt like that was what he meant.

"Thank you for dinner." I mumbled and turned towards the door.

I didn't hear him approach, and flinched when he took my arm before I had taken three steps.

"Don't do this." He said, turning me around. "You know it's for the best, for your protection."

I knew he was right, and my stubbornness made no sense. But I couldn't help myself. Tell me not to do something, and that's the only thing I want to do. Safety and gratefulness be damned.

I looked up at his face and his eyes were soft. Then my eyes wandered to his mouth and the memory of his kisses hit me.

"I know," I finally said "I'm just tired and want to go to bed."

I tried to free my arm, but he held on, his eyes studying me.

He lowered his mouth towards mine, and I turned my head at the last moment, twisting my arm free.

Ranger looked surprised but didn't hold me back

"Stay." He said softly.

I opened my mouth to say something, but the Intercom unit on the wall next to us blared at that moment.

"Ranger, come in. We have contact."

Ranger gave me one more look and hit the talk button, telling the merry man he'd be right down.


	22. Chapter 22

I think this is going to be one of the last chapters, with the arc coming to its natural end. There may be an epilogue, too. I hope you enjoy this 22. chapter.

This chapter is not for cupcakes.

Thanks for your great reviews, you're my inspiration! (And not in the cheesy-80's-song kind of way)

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: R for sexual content

Disclaimer: They're all JE's characters, except for Sandra. And no one would pay me for Sandra.

Out of my Mind Chapter 22

Ranger gave me one more look and hit the talk button, telling the merry man he'd be right down.

I briefly thought about running while his back was turned, but thought better of it. Acting like a child wouldn't solve anything.

And his "Stay" hadn't been a command, it had sounded almost pleading.

Ranger took a deep breath and faced me again.

"I have to go. But I need to talk to you when this is over. Please wait in your apartment, it is not safe for you to venture out alone. We could be tied up all night."

Well, okay, see, when he said it that way, I was much more willing to oblige. I already knew that he was right, but when he issued orders, I was bound to rebel. When he said 'Please', that was a different story.

"Okay." I said softly and opened the door "Let me know if you need me to help." Yeah right, I was sure my help could be instrumental when the Merry Men were stuck. But it made Ranger smile, and that was worth it.

I took the stairs when Ranger called the elevator; I couldn't stand being close to him any longer. Whatever I had resolved to do about my attraction when I was alone, it was impossible when I was with Ranger. And I had a suspicion that it would be the same with Joe. Of course it occurred to me that I was creating this problem all for myself, that I could just as soon just give in and carry on with both men, see where it would take me. And when I had been reading the Stephanie Plum novel, that's exactly what I had yelled at Stephanie to do.

Mostly though, I was angry at myself for making such a big deal out of nothing. A few kisses, some groping. It wasn't like either of them had proposed to me or anything, and I used to see more action during one night at college. Why was it different now?

The easiest way out would be to just leave it all behind me, go home to Boston, be Sandra Cline, systems administrator. But ever since I had looked at my new driver's license, a part of me had wondered what it would be like to start over in this persona, tabula rasa. Another part of me had laughed at that possibility and had called me insane, but the little voice had grown stronger. I still thought it was an idiotic idea and I was mad at myself for even contemplating changing my life around for, let's face it, a man. But still…

The fourth floor was quiet with all activity probably centered in and around the control room. I felt a little left out and a lot useless, but there wasn't anything I could do to help. There was, on the other hand, a lot I could do to mess things up. Like going out by myself and getting shot at, for example.

The door to the studio once again assigned to me was unlocked, but I knew there was a camera somewhere monitoring all doors.

I took a minute to explore the apartment. Stacks of clothes had been laid out for me on the bed and there were toiletries and towels in the bathroom. A new laptop had been placed on the coffee table.

In light of the well-stocked apartment, my resistance at Ranger's orders made me feel ungrateful and stupid. Here he was, taking care of me, and all I had a mind to was arguing.

After an hour of channel surfing, I grew restless. I wanted to know what was going on, the last I had heard, 'contact' was made. Did that mean Daltrey had left the building? Was Lamberti being bailed out? Had Ortiz hit a homerun?

I didn't know how I could find out other than joining the team on the fifth floor, but I was afraid I'd be interrupting.

The intercom phone rang at ten on the dot.

"Yo." Ranger said. It sounded so much cooler when he said it than I could ever manage.

"Thought you might want an update."

He must have been reading my mind.

"We're about to leave, it sounds like Daltrey managed to wake a judge and persuade him to come in. He might be bailing out Lamberti tonight."

"Oh." I said. I didn't know what else to say.

"I'll fill you in tomorrow, don't lose any sleep over this."

Easy for him to say. If I wasn't going to be kept awake by thoughts of the Senor, my mind would surely occupy itself with another one of my predicaments.

"Okay. Be careful." What else was there to say?

"You too." And he disconnected.

I woke up from a restless night with little sleep at 6:30, having convinced myself around midnight to give sleep a try.

When I had slept, I had dreamt of Ranger, Joe and I on a 60's-type game show, with me playing to win their affection as the grand prize. During waking hours, I had once again trying to decide what to do the next time I saw either of them. Chances were it was going to be Ranger in the morning.

I got up groggily and took a lengthy shower. Banging on the front door made me rush out of the bathroom, a large towel wrapped around me.

"Morning, Sunshine!" Lester greeted me smiling.

"I'm on my way to breakfast, care to join us?"

I looked past him and saw Bobby standing a few feet away.

"Uhm…"

"We'll wait for you to get dressed." Lester said and winked, pulling the door closed. I didn't know what had made me rush out clad only in a towel; living at RangeMan was like living in a co-ed dorm.

I threw on some clean clothes and tied my hair up, tying my boots already on the way, half-expecting some sexist remark about female beauty time when I opened the door.

Bobby greeted me with an almost-nod and I followed the two men down the corridor.

There was a small, cafeteria-type room across from the elevators, a few tables with chairs, a counter with trays of baked goods and jugs of beverages.

I helped myself to a toasted bagel and cream cheese, filled a large Styrofoam cup with coffee and milk and joined Lester and Bobby at one of the tables.

"So, fill me in." I said after my first sip of coffee.

"About last night?" Bobby asked and I rolled my eyes but bit back a sarcastic remark.

"No, about the Knicks making the playoffs, Stupid!" Lester replied instead, and that was so similar to what I had in mind, it made me laugh.

Bobby got serious and gave me the play-by-play of the previous night.

Their contact at the police station had informed them about Lamberti making his phone call; it had been to Daltrey as expected. Then he had called back to tell them about the emergency session the judge had called and all things were set in motion. There was surveillance at Daltrey's house, the policy station and Lamberti's last known residence.

Lester shook his head in disbelief "Can you believe this guy's connections? He gets a judge out of bed on a Saturday night! I bet the mayor's daughter couldn't get bailed out on a weekend!"

I agreed, but I wasn't really surprised. If the Senor was as big as Joe and Ranger had told me, I'd bet he'd greased the right hands on his way up.

Bobby finished his toast and continued.

"There was a limo waiting at the court house, the judge and Daltrey left in their own cars and Lamberti got into the limo shortly after 1 AM."

"Did you follow him?" Mental head slap. Why would they have been watching him if they weren't going to follow?

"The boss and Tank did. I followed Daltrey, in case he didn't got home." Bobby said.

Lester and Bobby didn't know the exact details, because they had been following their own orders, but apparently, Ranger and Bobby had managed to stop the limo and take Lamberti into custody, the RangeMan variety.

I was told they hadn't returned to the office, they had Lamberti in a safe house somewhere.

"So the mission was a success?" I asked to make sure.

"The mission!" Bobby said chuckling "Yeah, we completed the 'mission'."

"Well, whatever you call it!" I said and flicked a glob of cream cheese at him.

Lester laughed out loud and Bobby looked like he didn't know how to react, but eventually smiled.

When we were done with breakfast, Lester and Bobby headed back to their rooms; they had less than an hour before their shift started. I was sure they made good money, but I hoped it was enough to justify working on only a few hours of sleep.

I felt better now that I had been filled in on the current events. Unfortunately, there was nothing for me to do but wait for Ranger's return and the 'talk' he had mentioned. And I didn't even have a book to pass the time with.

Ranger called my cell phone just as I was returning to my apartment with a second mega cup of coffee.

"You're still at the apartment?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Smartass. Just checking."

I smiled. He sounded chipper for being up all night and holding a criminal captive.

"Any news?" I inquired.

"Nothing concrete yet, but it's looking good so far. Lamberti doesn't know much, but what he does know could make the case."

"When will you be back?" I sounded like a housewife with dinner cooking.

"The day shift will take over in an hour, I'll tell you the whole story when I'm in the office."

I wasn't sure I wanted to know the details of his persuasion, but he probably didn't know Lester and Bobby had shared the earlier events.

"Okay, see you then."

See, a civilized conversation, I could do it! No arguments, no pet names, just two colleagues exchanging information. Yeah, right.

I had no problems on the phone. It was the face-to-face, talk but don't touch, that I had a problems with.

Enough! I decided right there and then. I was annoying myself and I'd had it.

Joe was out of town, so there was only Ranger to deal with. I was going to change my course of action!

With my mind set, I dialed Ella on the intercom and asked her if she would do me the favor of getting a few things for me, since I was under house arrest. Well, I worded it differently for her, but that's how I felt. I knew it was for my own good and blahblah, but I still felt like a caged animal. Ella agreed without hesitation, wrote down my list and assured me she'd be back 'in a jiffy'. I liked her more and more.

I looked at myself in the door mirror in the bathroom, and I liked what I saw. Ella had followed my request for 'anything other than black' by getting me a pistachio-green v-necked t-shirt that was just a tad too tight, but looked okay. I had paired it with the blue jeans and the brown leather-string sandals she had brought and I was giddy at the variety of color. I loved black, but wearing nothing but every day was getting on my nerves. Now I looked different. My eyes were mascaraed and lined in green, which in combination with the t-shirt looked very pretty.

I had put my hair up with a fancy clip (Ella had surprised me there!), with a few curls escaping here and there accidentally on purpose. Yes, I was ready.

When Ranger knocked a half-hour later, I had started up the laptop and was browsing through GFY.

His hair was wet, probably from the shower, he was clean-shaven and wore black jeans and a tight black t-shirt.

"Nice." He said, letting his eyes wander over me, as he closed the door.

"Thank you." Damned fair skin, I was sure I was tomato-red again.

"Ella?"

"Yes. I was a good girl, I didn't leave the house."

He smiled at that. "I like good girls."

I remembered my earlier resolution "Don't count on me then. It was just a fluke. Remember what they say, 'Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere'!" and I gave him a full-on smile while resisting the urge to put space between us.

His eyebrow raised a fraction of an inch as he took my hand and pulled me closer.

This time, I didn't turn my head when he lowered his lips.

"I like bad girls even more." He whispered before his mouth met mine and he wrapped his arms around me. Gods he smelled good!

The new Sandra had decided to go for it, but the old one was still scared of the outcome.

I snaked my arms around his neck as I opened my mouth to the kiss and told the old Sandra to take a hike. That was just about my last conscious thought. Our tongues met, his left hand traveled down my back and cupped my ass and I moaned into his mouth. His right hand undid my hairclip and buried itself in my hair.

He was now pressing me against him and I could feel his tight body through my shirt.

Ranger inched me towards the bedroom alcove without breaking the kiss. He stopped when the back of my knees hit the bed and gently lowered me onto it, pulling my shirt free with the movement. My heart was racing and my mind was blank.

Yes, I was playing with fire, and I was sure to get burned, but I was done treading water. And, okay, I really needed a release.

Ranger lay down next to me and pulled my shirt over my head. His hand traveled from my hair, over my neck to my shoulder, and he trailed its path with his mouth, planting wet kisses.

I shivered and leaned into his mouth, my hands tugging at his shirt. He moaned when my fingers touched the skin on his back.

I prayed he wouldn't stop to ask if this was okay, if I wanted this or something like that, because then I was sure to lose my courage and hide in the bathroom. The only way I could do this was at full steam, no breaks for thinking.

Ranger pulled away to take off his shirt, and I gasped in awe. He was perfect; there was no other way to describe him. His muscles were toned to perfection, even the scars couldn't diminish the picture, they were a part of him.

I rolled him around and straddled him, pushing my palms up his torso, gently kneading. My hair was brushing his face when I kissed him, and my whole body was tingling when our tongues found their rhythm. I released his lips and let my tongue follow his jaw line to his ear when I felt him unclasp my bra.

I sucked in air as his hands cupped my breasts and when I opened my eyes, I saw his were dilated black.

His hands caressed my nipples, then traveled down my torso and he opened the button of my jeans and undid the zipper.

He lifted my hips off his and rolled down my pants, expertly flipping me around onto my back with the motion.

He slid off the bed to slip off my shoes and pull my pants free all the way, then he shucked his own. I hadn't realized he went commando and my breath caught at the sight of him naked, I had never seen any man more beautiful.

In a blur of motion my panties were gone and he was inside me. I groaned in surprise and lifted my hips to welcome him.

My head was resting on his chest and my hair covered almost his entire upper body as I was waiting for my heartbeat to return to normal. Ranger was breathing evenly under me, his fingers stroking my hair.

I didn't know if it had been the right thing to do to sleep with him, and in the aftermath I couldn't see how it would resolve anything, but it had been the best sex of my life.

I sighed and rolled away from him, grabbing my t-shirt from the foot of the bed. I slipped it on and disappeared into the bathroom, I needed a moment.

Since I knew he could hear me through the door, I kept the screaming in my head.

It was a tirade of 'Waaaaah! Holy Shit! Omigod!'

Then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror sucked in some air. I needed to clean up!

I stood under the shower unmoving as the water rained down on me. I had this silly grin on my face that wouldn't go away and could only come from one thing.

I heard the door open and gasped when Ranger pulled away the shower curtain and joined me.

"Need some help?" He asked winking as he picked up the soap and started lathering me.

Much later, I joined Ranger in the living area. I had expected him to leave after the shower, but apparently, he had just dressed and was now waiting for me.

"We need to talk." He said. He was almost-smiling, but I had never heard those words uttered without some kind of a bomb exploding afterwards. Nothing good ever followed 'We need to talk'.

"Okay…" I said slowly as I walked towards the kitchenette to get a bottle of water.

I felt more like a shot of tequila, but water was the only beverage in the fridge. "Want some water, too?" I asked Ranger. Always the polite hostess. He declined, and I took a seat beside him, grabbing a cushion for mental support as I pulled my feet up to the couch.

"Here's the thing," Ranger began on a sigh, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I came here earlier to…to offer you a job."

My eyes widened and my jaw may have dropped.

"I didn't plan for…this to happen." He motioned towards the bed.

I busied my hands with opening the water bottle and took a big gulp, buying time.

"Me neither." I lied. It was exactly what I had planned, maybe not as quickly, and maybe not even for today, but it had been part of the plan to put Ranger behind me, figuratively speaking.

Now what about the job? A job at RangeMan? Was he about to tell me I had disqualified myself by becoming his sex toy?

"Don't get me wrong, I wanted this. I've been trying not to." He touched his fingers to his forehead as if to smooth out wrinkles.

"What I'm trying to say is, I'd understand if you'd decline the offer now, but it was not meant as a ploy to get you into bed."

"What offer?"

He stood up.

"I'm offering you a job at RangeMan. You can continue skip-tracing part-time, but for the most part, you'd be working at a computer in the control room."

"Doing what?" Probably the same thing Stephanie was doing for a while before she ended up being a fulltime bounty hunter again without explanation.

"Background checks, information requests, general office work. And maybe the occasional distraction job." He was smiling now "I know you're quite good at distraction."

Holy Ted! A job working for Ranger! I could see how the events of the past few hours could be complicating things.

My mind was spinning. I was thinking 'Fuck no!' followed by 'Hell yes!' and everything in between.

"Take some time to think about it." Ranger said. "How about lunch in an hour, you must be hungry?"

I nodded. "I'll think about it."

He stepped closer and leaned down to me "Think real hard." He smiled and kissed me lightly on the lips. "I'll see you upstairs in an hour."

"Upstairs-upstairs or the control room?" Lunch could be had anywhere, after all.

"What do you think?" Ranger winked and walked out.

I let out a whoosh of air as I sank back into the couch pillows. "I don't know what to think, Ranger." I said into the empty apartment, and it was the truth.

Working for Ranger sounded like the coolest job on the planet, but it would mean staying in Trenton. I'd have to tell Ranger I wasn't who he thought I was and that could change his mind quickly. But if I declined, would I go back home and turn my back on all things Trenton? And what would I tell my friends and family either way?

"Aaaaarrrgh!" I screamed in frustration and punched the cushion I was still holding.

Time, I needed time. And I needed a second opinion, or rather a third, since my mind was cleanly split in half.

'Jess!' I thought. Yeah, that would go over well. 'Remember when I went to Trenton for a day trip? Well, guess what, it's all true, just like in the books, only there's no Stephanie and I've slept with Ranger and he wants me to work for him. What do you think?'

Okay, but what was my alternative? Short of running away, there was no possibility of avoiding Ranger, of telling him my decision one way or the other.

My head hurt. I needed a drink, preferably several. I wanted to numb my brain and fall into a drunken stupor, like the one that got me here in the first place!

A knock on the door yanked me out of my thoughts and I jumped up.

It was Bobby. He smiled and handed me a key fob. "Ranger asked me to drop this off for you. It'll get you into the garage, the gym, and the seventh floor."

I returned his smile and thanked him. He nodded and turned around. He had given me a key to Ranger's apartment. Probably the mystery of the location of lunch was solved.

I stared at the key fob and absentmindedly closed the door. No way was an hour enough to make up my mind, a year may not suffice, I thought.


	23. Chapter 23

Sorry about the delay in posting, I had to go on a totally stressful business trip.

Here we go. I honestly don't know what the next chapter is going to be like when I post, I write them as they come. Your reviews give me the necessary feedback, and I appreciate all your suggestions!

Aria, Cokii, you guys rock!

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: PG 13

Disclaimer: They're all JE's characters, except for Sandra. And no one would pay me for Sandra.

Out of my Mind Chapter 23

I boarded the elevator on wobbly legs. After the hour had passed, the only thing I had known was that I had made no decision. So I did something I'd never done before: I flipped a coin. All or nothing. Heads, I'd take the job. Tails, I'd find some excuse to leave and board a train to Boston.

I hadn't even gone with two-out-of-three, one toss and it was final.

My mind thus made up, I headed upstairs. Probably it was the wrong decision, but that's what you get when you leave life's choices to a coin.

I was going to stick with it anyway, I just didn't know how to tell Ranger.

My hand was shaking when I knocked on Ranger's front door. I heard his muffled "Come in!" and I used the key fob to enter, surprised to see Bobby and Lester in the living room.

"Right," Bobby said "If there's no change in plans I'll see you at 1400 hours" He gathered up some papers from the coffee table and turned towards me, I was standing under the arch. Ranger was sitting on the couch, studying more papers. He looked up and nodded at Lester, who took that as his cue and joined Bobby. They both smiled at me as they left, and then I was alone with Ranger. Someday I'd have to study the art of non-verbal communication.

Ranger got up and tossed the papers on the coffee table. He walked over and gave me the full-on smile.

"Hi." He said as he hugged me. Mmmm…Ranger scent. A girl could get addicted to it.

He put an arm around my shoulders and led me over to the living room.

"Let me give you the latest news. Lamberti spilled details about a delivery, supposedly planned for next week. According to him, so important that the boss himself will be there!"

"He told you this on account of your honest brown eyes?" I teased.

"Not hardly. But you don't want to know more about that. He's alive and his mom will still recognize him, if that's what you want to know."

It was a little more than I wanted to know, actually. I grimaced.

Ranger chuckled. "I don't know what kind of animal you think I am, it was a joke! We grilled him for hours, but there was no blood loss involved!"

"Oh." I said, embarrassed "I wasn't sure…after that afternoon we spent looking up contacts…"

That had gotten pretty violent at times, so my mind had filled in the blanks. I chose not to answer Ranger as far as the kind of animal was concerned.

He gathered up the papers. "Hours of phone conversation we still have to sort through. Not sure how much we'll share with the cops and when."

"Can I help you with that?"

He looked up and our eyes met. "As an employee, it would be part of your job description, yes."

I chewed my lower lip.

"Have you made a decision?"

"Yes." My heart was beating so loudly, I was sure he could hear it.

"Do you car to share it?" He asked softly as he straightened, his face was now only inches from mine.

I took a deep breath and did the mental pep talk thing again.

"Yes, Ranger, I would love to work for you! I'm not sure how good I will be, so I figured we could start out on a trial basis?" I let out a breath I wasn't aware of holding.

He traced my jawbone with his fingertips. "Don't worry, if the computer isn't your thing, I'll have a job I know you're excellent at…" I punched him jokingly, blushing again. "Cute." He smiled.

"I'll have HR put together the details, you can discuss salary and benefits with them. You can start tomorrow if you like."

I liked. Now that the decision was made, I was anxious to get started. What I didn't tell him was that the trial basis was to last a week. If after that I liked it, I was going to come clean. I didn't know how much of a difference it would make, but if I still had a job after that, I'd pack up my apartment and move to Trenton permanently. Otherwise, I'd leave in a week and go back to my old life.

Lunch was already waiting for us, a tray of sandwiches and bottled water. With the knot in my stomach, I hadn't realized how hungry I was, now I was wolfing down two sandwiches and eyeing a third.

"Go ahead," Ranger said, following my line of sight, "Your job comes with a free gym membership."

That did it, I didn't want another sandwich.

I looked at Ranger and realized our relationship had changed. Probably because of the sex, but that didn't explain why I suddenly thought of Ranger as one of my best friends. That's not usually the reaction I have to great sex. Before, I had been so anxious that I never gave myself the time to look at him. Strangely enough, Ranger behaved as if he felt similar: a hug, a friendly arm around my shoulder, the teasing…all things I enjoyed a lot, but not typical behavior for lovers. Normal behavior for friends. Had we become friends through sex? That would be so odd, it could almost make sense.

"What?" Ranger finally asked, and I realized I was still staring at him.

"Nothing. Just checking out my new boss." Phew. Good save there.

He smiled as he chugged the last of his water. "I gotta get back to work. You might as well enjoy the last day of freedom." He winked.

"So I'm free to go?"

"No, but you're free to do whatever you want within in the building."

I must have looked disappointed at that because he quickly added, "Look, your situation really hasn't changed. The Senor doesn't even know about Lamberti, and we're not sure what we're going to do about him. There may be others waiting in the wings to harm you."

I nodded "I know. It's just getting old."

"It's only for today, babe. Tomorrow, I'll have a man available to watch you again."

I smiled. "Mmmm. I like to be watched."

Ranger laughed and jokey-punched my chin. Further proof of my friendship theory. The really strange thing was that I didn't mind.

We rode the elevator down together and for once, I didn't mind being close to Ranger. I wondered if we'd be the proverbial friends with benefits now. One thing was certain; my plan had sort of worked. Instead of holding back, I had decided to go ahead full steam and that had landed Ranger in my bed. Well, his bed, technically speaking, but anyway. Only now I realized that while I thought he was sizzling hot and I was attracted to him, I wasn't in love with him. Or maybe not yet.

There was one more name on my list. My plan wasn't fair to either of them, but the previous one hadn't been fair to me. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, and all that crap.

Ranger left the elevator on the fifth floor and chucked me under the chin for a goodbye, I continued on to the fourth floor. I was free to do whatever I liked, within the building. Whoopedi-doo, that gave me a whole lot of options. I told myself to get over it and act my age.

I had a lot of time to think that afternoon. Not always a good thing.

But I could spend the time working on my plan, I decided. I took a deep breath and called Joe.

He sounded happy to hear from me and told me he'd be back in Trenton by the end of the day.

"Do you want to get together tonight?" he asked.

I told him about the house arrest deal, only I made it sound like I'd be busy the whole time.

"Well, I should be in town for at least this week, call me when you have time to see me?"

"I will. Did you get what you went for in Miami?" I knew he couldn't give me details about his work, so I asked as vague as possible.

"Yes and no. I may have to go back. But I've missed some stuff while I was gone, it seems. Do you really hate your stuff so much that you have to torch it every few days?"

I scowled at the phone and stuck my tongue out and Joe laughed as if he had seen it.

"I'm kidding! Are you okay?"

Now his tone sounded almost concerned. I assured him I was fine and told him I'd call as soon as my schedule would allow it. Then I added that I was really looking forward to seeing him again and Joe assured me he'd make special plans that wouldn't include a shootout. We disconnected and I realized I'd been telling the truth, I couldn't wait to see Joe again. I liked my new plan much better than the last, when I had panicked every time I saw him or Ranger.

A half hour later, Lester knocked on my door. He was carrying a box that he sat down on the coffee table.

"Welcome to RangeMan!" He smiled as he unpacked the box: a Kevlar vest, an ID card, a gun, boxes of bullets, two pairs of cuffs, more black t-shirts.

"I already have a gun." I commented, taking the contents in.

"Backup." He said "All standard equipment."

I had an idea. "Do you guys have a shooting range here? Could I go practice?"

"We do. " Lester confirmed, "Let me call to see if there's room."

He picked up the intercom and asked whoever picked up for the schedule. He was smiling when he put the receiver down. "Go for it! It's in the basement, your key fob will get you in."

He said as he lightly punched my arm "Go get them, Tex! I gotta get back to work."

He smiled and let himself out.

What the hell, I had the whole afternoon to pass anyway, might as well find out how hard this shooting thing was. I had never in my life even held a loaded gun.

When I got down to the basement, I realized I should have asked on of the Merry Men to come with me, the range was big, dark and empty. There was a bookshelf filled with little boxes of ammunition by the entrance, but how would I know which kind went with my gun? I'd have to use the ammo that came with my 'starter kit' and ask for refills later.

I tried the light switches until the whole room was lit and stepped over to the shooting cubicles. Goggles lay on a small shelf in each cubicle, and there were switches to presumably operate the targets. 'Right', I thought 'I've seen this in enough movies to make do!'

I assumed cameras were watching my every move, and I didn't want to risk being watched making a fool of myself. Probably the team had better things to do than monitor the basement, but I didn't want to take the chance.

I figured out the switches, pulled the target up to a comfortable range and loaded the gun.

I spent about a half hour firing away and was happy to see I had ripped some holes into the cardboard cutouts. Not exactly bull's eyes, but not gutter balls either. Now my shoulders ached and my bullets were almost all gone, so I decided to call it a day.

I took another shower because shooting had left me sweaty, and dressed in the blue jeans and t-shirt Ella had bought. I didn't have a plan for the rest of the day, but I did the hair and make-up thing anyway, always be prepared.

Bobby intercommed me shortly after five and told me they were ordering pizza for dinner, would I be interested? Dinner with the boys? Of course I was! He asked me to meet them in the cafeteria at six and I thanked him even though he had already disconnected.

I couldn't decide between being early and showing up fashionably late, so I got to the cafeteria at six on the dot. The Merry Men were already seated at various tables, and pizza and beer were served. Ranger wasn't there, but I spotted Tank and Bobby at a table and joined them.

News of me joining the team had already spread, and everybody was welcoming me to RangeMan. I did a fast scan of the room and realized I was the only girl. This would be interesting. I was used to working in an all-male environment from my job in IT, and I knew there were at least two other women in the building. I had a feeling my job could be fun. And if it wasn't, it was only going to last a week anyway. Maybe I would find the time to see Nick at some point, get some female perspective.

The men ate like an army; I had never seen so much food disappear in such a short time. I was lucky to steal two slices. The beer was being emptied fast as well, and Tank felt the need to explain that alcohol was only allowed at the end of a shift; all men present would have the night off.

I had a mild beer buzz going after dinner and felt quite comfortable among my new colleagues.

Plans were made to freshen up and head out into town, and I knew without asking that I wasn't included. As much as I wanted to leave the building, I didn't want the merry men feel obligated to watch over me on their night off, so I stayed behind when everybody left and helped myself to another beer.

I hadn't heard from Ranger by the time I stumbled back to my quarter an hour later, and although the beer was telling me to call him, I resisted. What if he was still working and in the middle of something? He'd know where to find me if he wanted to, and I had already decided not to complicate things further. I'd just watch some TV and go to bed, as if it was an ordinary Sunday night.

The phone woke me when it was still dark outside. I had fallen asleep on the couch, fully dressed, the TV was still running.

"Mmh?" was the only thing I could breathe into the receiver.

"Slight change of plans, babe." Ranger said, sounding wide-awake.

"The computer work will have to wait, I need you out pretending to go skip-tracing today, only you'll go after some of my skips. Are you okay with that?"

I was still trying to make sense to his words and the pause must have been too long for Ranger.

"Lin, are you awake?"

"Sort of." I mumbled, sitting up to keep from falling asleep again.

"Can you be in the control room in an hour for a briefing?"

I assured him that I could and disconnected. Why did workdays at RangeMan have to start at 6:00 AM?

I dragged myself into the bathroom, took a shower, tamed my hair and put on work make-up. I dressed in RangeMan black, clipped all my equipment to my belt and stuffed the cargo pants' pockets with all the stuff I'd usually put in my purse.

On the way to the control room, I detoured into the kitchen I had spotted on the fifth floor and helped myself to some coffee. I would have liked a donut to go with the coffee, but I settled for a cereal bar, since there were only healthy food choices.

The control room was staffed with merry men I hadn't met yet, but Hal waved a greeting from the conference room entrance.

"Morning. You're early. The boss will like to see that. Have a seat." He said as he motioned me into the room. So far I seemed to be the only non-morning person.

Ranger arrived minutes after me and nodded a greeting to Hal, then he smiled at me. His skin-tight shirt fit him like he belonged on the cover of GQ rather than in an office and I got a tingle down below when I remembered what he looked like under the shirt.

Hal handed out folders to us and Ranger laid out the plan for the day.

"The large drug deal Lamberti told us about won't happen for days, I have men working on our preparations. We'll be ready. But in the meantime, we may lure more of Najar's men out of hiding by parading you in front of them."

Oh, goody. I was once again going to be bait.

"You're going after FTA's that are probably more your caliber anyway." He opened the folder and I took a look at mine.

Roger Thornstein was the name on the first sheet. He looked mean in the mugshot and he had been arrested for rape and grand theft auto.

"Roger car-jacked a Volvo and raped the owner before he tossed her out on the highway." Ranger explained.

This was what he thought was my caliber? I couldn't believe I had fooled him that well, he must have noticed by now that I was completely incompetent. The way I figured, little old ladies that cheated at bingo were more my caliber. But I didn't say anything as Ranger went on.

"There are three for today. The one thing they have in common is they all live in the Senor's stomping grounds. We're bound to rattle some cages today."

I wasn't so sure I liked the plan. Sure, I'd have protection, but they would probably have to rescue me on my first try. I didn't know the first thing to do!

Ranger obviously took my silence as agreement.

"Hal and I will be your shadow, Tank and Bobby will be in the vicinity to spot any attention you might get. It'll get you out there again, like you wanted." He winked and I grimaced. My going out plans had more to do with Macy's. I knew the smart thing to do was to tell him I felt inapt for the task, but I couldn't make myself object. The last thing I wanted to do was 'rattle cages' again, but the second to last thing was disappoint Ranger, so I nodded. We went over the other FTA's in order and the queasy feeling in my stomach grew stronger. They were all what Stephanie would refer to as Ranger cases.

"You have a map of all their locations in your folder. You'll take your car to make it look like you're alone."

When I looked up in surprise, Ranger added, "Your car is tracked from here. If we lose you, we'll quickly find you again. We'll communicate via the two-way function on your phone. Any questions?"

Yes, how did I get myself into this mess and what would be the least embarrassing way out?

I shook my head.

"Okay then." Ranger said and got up. "We'll gear up and meet in the garage in 30 minutes."

Hal stood and walked out. I was about to follow him when Ranger took my arm.

His eyes were soft when he studied my face.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" He asked.

I didn't trust my voice yet, so I just nodded and lowered my eyes.

"We'll be close, babe, you may not see us, but we're there. With any luck, we'll catch us a big fish today." He put a finger under my chin to force my face up to him and our eyes met.

"High bonds?" I managed.

"That too." He acknowledged "No one under fifty thousand. But I was thinking more of the men tasked with taking you out."

I swallowed. When he put it that way, a day cooped up at RangeMan didn't sound too bad. But I had promised myself I'd give my new job a try, and starting off not liking plans didn't seem like a good idea.

"I'll be fine." I said, more to convince myself than Ranger, but he seemed to believe me and smiled.

We joined Hal in the control room as he was just clipping on his gear. I had the urge to come clean and tell everyone my secret but the fear of embarrassment won over, so I just chewed my lower lip and kept quiet.

Ranger and I left first to take the elevator down.

"Try not to get hurt." He said when we were alone. "I have plans for you tonight."

Heat rushed through me when I saw the look in his eyes. I didn't know how well I could hide my attraction when I was working with Ranger and he clearly wanted to keep our little affair from the others.

"I'll try." I said softly. "Will you help me with the take down?"

He shook his head slightly "Gotta be just you. We'll step in before you get hurt though." He took me in his arms and kissed my head. "You'll be fine, don't let him get to you!"

I didn't think I was going to be fine, I thought I'd be humiliated by messing my pants if I'd see someone pointing a gun at me, but I nodded into Ranger's chest.

I was to leave first, cell phone at the ready, map on the passenger seat beside me. I took a couple of deep breaths when I was alone in the Beetle and tried to convince myself that Ranger was right, I'd be fine.

I even managed a finger wave for Hal and Ranger as I passed them on my way out and headed for Stark Street.


	24. Chapter 24

Are you still with me? If you are, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

I am taking some liberties with the Spanish language here, I apologize. I really don't speak it.

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: R for language and violence

Disclaimer: They're all JE's characters, except for Sandra. And no one would pay me for Sandra.

Out of my Mind Chapter 24

I was trying to sort out my feelings while I was driving, in a what's-the-worst-that-could-happen approach, but I was too unfamiliar with the streets of Trenton to drive on autopilot.

Ranger stayed true to his word, I couldn't spot him in my rearview mirror.

We were starting the day so early because the chances of catching people at home were better, Ranger had explained. And that included everyone, not just the FTA's. If I was overheard banging on some wrongdoer's door by someone on the Senor's payroll, even better. I was to sport a devil-may-care attitude.

I found Thornstein's home address on Stark Street; he lived on the third floor of a converted row house that looked like it had been abandoned thirty years ago. Fast food wrappers, empty soda cans and discarded newspapers littered the sidewalk and the stoop, and although the rising sun promised a nice day, this part of Stark Street seemed eternally dark.

I killed the engine and sat in the car, waiting for some courage. All I had to do was waltz in and knock on the door, after all. Maybe he wasn't even home. And if he was and looked real scary, I could always just pretend I had the wrong apartment and flee. Yeah, I liked that plan!

I took a deep breath and got out of the car, straightened my shoulders and felt for the gun on my belt, hoping for moral support.

The inside of the house was even worse than the outside. I gagged at the foul stench, human waste and rotted meat and gods knew what else. After a few minutes, my eyes had adjusted to the darkness and I spotted the source of the bad smell: garbage bags were piled up next to the staircase, some were ripped open and the contents had spilled out. I thought I saw one of the bags move and ran up the stairs. If I had seen a rat, I would have passed out.

According to the file, Thornstein lived in apartment 3B. The apartment numbers were written on the doors with chalk, and on every floor, one door was marked 'Bathroom'. I shuddered at the thought of sharing a bathroom in this house, and the thought distracted me enough to knock on 3B.

No answer. I waited a few minutes and knocked again. I figured I'd give it three tries and give up. There were some sounds behind the door and I swore under my breath. Should have left after one knock.

I unbuttoned my gun holster so that I'd have easy access as the door was yanked open.

"What the fuck!?" the man yelled. He was about 5'9" on a medium frame with brown eyes and hair. He wore a dirty white wife beater shirt and blue boxers. And I recognized Roger Thornstein from the meanness in his eyes, just like in the picture.

"Roger Thornstein?" I asked, straightening my shoulders and forcing my voice to remain calm and confident, while my mind was screaming 'Oh shit! Oh, shiiiit!'

"Who wants to know??"

"I'm Lindsay Taylor. You missed your court date the other day and we would like you to reschedule." I was surprised my voice still didn't tremble.

Thornstein barked a laugh. "Kiss my ass!" he yelled and threw the door shut.

Well, that had gone well. I was tempted to just leave, but I remembered from the briefing that a courier the Senor sometimes used lived in the building, that's why Thornstein had been picked. The plan was to give Najar time to send one of the goons after me. I wondered if I could give him the time while I waited in my car, when Thornstein's door opened again.

It took me a second to realize I was looking down the barrel of a gun, and I froze.

"Tell the court I'm rescheduling." Thornstein said on a smile. "Now I give you three second to get your ass out of here or I'll make you." His eyes were pure evil and his voice sounded dangerous.

"One…" He counted and I finally got my legs to move when I heard the earth-shattering bang of a shot.

I flew down the first flight of stairs, and banged my hips on the banister rounding it for the next flight. Another shot, and wood splintered next to me. In my haste, I misstepped, tripped and rolled down the stairs. I landed on the first floor with a loud 'thud'.

The wind was knocked out of me and I closed my eyes to count all limbs. My left leg throbbed and my arms hurt, but nothing seemed to be broken. I got up with a groan and limped to the door.

Ranger had warned me I'd be on my own, but he must have heard the shots. I looked around, but the streets were empty as before, so I dragged myself into the Beetle before Thornstein decided it was a good idea to come after me.

I started the car and pulled away, drove two blocks and parked. Slumped over the steering wheel, I tried to catch my breath and assess the damage.

The two-way squawked on my belt "What's the story? Why are you pulled over?" Ranger's voice came over the speaker.

I didn't quite know how to answer that. My body hurt and I was sure I was going to be black and blue the next morning. I was bleeding from what seemed like dozens of shallow cuts and my heart was pounding.

"Lin?"

I took the cell phone off my belt and pushed the talk button.

"Give me a minute." I said, trying to think of a version to give to Ranger.

"Thornstein didn't want to come with me." I finally said. It was the truth, basically.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." I didn't want to elaborate on the levels of okay. I was alive and could walk, but I felt about as okay as when Ranger had pulled me out of the burning motel room.

I slapped myself mentally and made me put the car in gear and continue.

If I had done my job right so far, the Senor would have been alerted and Tank may be able to spot a tail I'd pick up.

The second address wasn't too far, just off Stark Street. I already had enough of the neighborhood to last me a lifetime, the decay and despair was oozing out of every building.

Carrie Holmes was next on the list and I took a minute to study her file after I parked in front of her building. She lived in a three-story brick block that had its entire first floor spray-painted.

Garbage was piled up outside for a change, and it blended in well with the littered sidewalk.

Carrie had been arrested for stabbing a john to death; she was a hooker and a coke addict. I didn't need that information, one look at her picture told me everything. She looked like Kate Moss in Goth makeup; only she wasn't wearing any makeup in the picture.

I groaned as I got out of the car, I could feel every muscle in my body. Probably I'd be sore as hell the next morning, if I ever made it that far.

Looking around in the foyer while my eyes adjusted made me realize what a nice neighborhood I used to live in. I never had to step over used condoms, needles and wrappers of all kinds on my way home.

Carrie lived on the second floor. If I had to leave in a hurry, at least I couldn't fall far that time.

Grim sense of humor, I was adjusting already. Go figure. It had occurred to me that Ranger's plan didn't have anything to do with my abilities, and more with the location of the skips. Probably he thought he could prevent me from getting hurt and had no real expectations for me to actually make a capture. That would explain the two-car protection he was giving me.

The thought relaxed me a little, and I even pasted a polite smile on my face as I rang Carrie's buzzer and looked at the peephole.

I gave her two minutes between buzzes, thinking of how long it would take me to get to the door if someone rang my doorbell at this hour. It wasn't even eight yet.

I heard swearing and shuffling behind the door and then it opened about an inch.

"Yeah?" A female voice said, but it was too dark in both the hallway and the apartment to see anyone.

"Carrie Holmes?" I tried my routine again.

"Shit!" Was the answer. My guess was I had found Carrie.

"You missed your court appointment and I…"

"Yeah, I know." She cut me off, "I have to work you know? I can't just wander off to please the judge whenever he feels like it."

The door still didn't open wider, but I tried to get a foot in the crack.

"This won't take long." I lied, remembering Stephanie's lines. "I can take you in my car and have you back in no time."

There was silence; Carrie was probably going through her options. I pushed against the door and opened it; she wasn't really in a position to resist much. I wasn't much taller than her, but with my 115 pounds, I had about 20 pounds on her.

She stumbled backwards and I entered the apartment, closing the door.

"I'll wait while you get ready." I said calmly as I flipped the light switch to my left. The apartment smelled like cigarette smoke and pot, mold and sweat. I swallowed to fight the urge to gag.

Carrie was dressed in a hip-length t-shirt that may once have been yellow. She looked even bonier than in her picture and dark circles emphasized her hollow eyes. Her short blond hair clung to her scalp.

She looked at me confused. "You can't just barge in here, you know." She tried.

"I can and I did. Now get dressed or I have to bring you in like that." I gestured at her t-shirt. I had no idea where that had come from, I had sounded really professional.

Carrie still didn't move, so I pushed her gently into the direction I suspected her bedroom in. It was a one-bedroom apartment that probably didn't see much sun all day, but all the shades were drawn anyway. We passed the kitchen and I half-expected roaches to crawl away, dirty dishes with varying degrees of leftovers on them were piled everywhere. The hallway led to the bedroom where clothes were strewn all over.

"Get dressed." I repeated as I closed the door on Carrie.

I didn't know if she would try to flee through the window, so I stayed close to the door, listening for any sounds.

My cell phone squawked and made me jump, I was so tensed.

"Everything okay in there?" Ranger wanted to know.

"All is well. Just waiting for my FTA to get dressed."

I was waiting for a comment on that but the line stayed dead. All professional today.

Carrie emerged from her bedroom and disappeared into the bathroom. If she was going to try and look respectable, we'd be here all day.

I shifted my weight as I grew impatient, trying to remember if this house was home to Senor employees as well.

A knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts. Probably it was Hal, sent after me to check.

I was so convinced it was one of the merry men, I didn't check the peephole. I regretted that negligence when I opened the door and it was shoved into me, a large frame filling the doorway.

Strong hands grabbed my arms, I caught the shadow of a face, and then I felt something cold against my forearm and the world went black.

When I came to, I knew exactly where I was although I had never seen it from the perspective I was given now: I was in the trunk of a moving car. I must have been stun-gunned by the assailant, although I couldn't remember exactly what had happened before I blacked out.

My hands and feet were tied, my mouth was taped and I was folded into a fetal position to fit. My first thought was that I was blindfolded, but then I realized it was just pitch dark in the trunk, I could blink my eyes just fine.

Great going. My first day on the job and I had managed to get myself kidnapped. I was hoping either Hal and Ranger or Tank and Bobby were following me; one of them must have spotted me on my way out of Carrie's house. How would they have managed to bring a Sandra-shaped bundle out unnoticed? I clung to that thought as panic tried to rise up.

The car made stops and turns, and I tried to kick the sides of my confinement in the hopes of getting noticed. I didn't know how long I had been unconscious, but it had to be rush hour still, lots of people around.

Probably Ranger was waiting for the car to reach its destination, so they could take out the whole lot instead of just the driver and whoever else was with him. That had to be it. I couldn't let my mind hop on the train of thought that no one had noticed me being carried away and thrown into a trunk.

The drive seemed to last a long time, I made myself count in French to calm down and I had reached 10.000 before I gave up and we were still moving. My ankles and wrists hurt from where whatever they had used to tie me up cut into my skin, my leg still throbbed from my earlier fall and my back was complaining loudly against the position I lay in. I felt like cattle being driven to the slaughterhouse and prayed to all the gods that Ranger would be at our destination.

Finally, the car stopped and the engine died. I held my breath when I heard footsteps and muffled voices. I couldn't make out the words, but there were two men talking.

The trunk lid was opened, and I squinted against the light at two silhouettes. One of them leaned down and pulled a hood over my head, then yanked me out of the trunk over his shoulder.

I started squirming with all my strength, but he held me tight.

There were more voices now, speaking Spanish. I told myself to stay calm and go to my happy place, but I felt the tears welling up and the panic force its way through.

There was the sound of cars arriving and doors being slammed, and then I felt a change in temperature as if we had entered a building. I couldn't make out any shapes through the hood, but the darkness lifted a little as if a light had been turned on, then I was placed onto a chair or something else wooden.

Hands held on to my arms and legs, my ties were cut. Then I heard and felt cuffs click shut around my wrists and ankles and moments later their counterparts clicked into place.

Finally, the hood was pulled off my head.

I looked right into the eyes of the man who was holding the hood, a tall, broad Latino with black eyes and long black hair. His eyes were cold and his face was expressionless.

I was in a room that looked a lot like an office, with two large desks and filing cabinets. The walls were painted beige and there was a small window opposite a closed door. My belt was gone, my hands were cuffed to the arms of the chair, my ankles to its legs.

Two more men were leaning against the desks; both had their arms crossed over their chest. One looked a lot like Pedro Martinez, small in stature; the other one was Caucasian and looked like he had come from a 30's gangster movie, crooked nose, scarred face and all.

The guy in front of me looked at me and said something in Spanish, but he didn't seem to be talking to me.

"No." Pedro guy answered in Spanish.

I cursed my choice of taking French and German in school, not being able to understand scared me. The fear threatened to join forces with the already present panic and full-blown hysteria couldn't be far behind.

It seemed like they were waiting for someone or something, they didn't address me but talked among themselves in hushed voices.

Tears spilled down my face and I had a hard time controlling my breathing with the tape over my mouth. Maybe it would be a good thing to pass out and wake up when it was all over, I thought.

I realized Ranger's plan had worked, I had attracted attention. But where was he? Ever since I'd woken up in the trunk, I had decided I didn't like this movie and was ready for it to end.

A car door slammed somewhere and the three guys jumped to attention.

"El Senor!" Pedro said and rushed to open the door.

Oh no. Not THE Senor, please. I wasn't important enough for the top honcho's time! More importantly, I didn't know if I could control my bladder if I had to face him!

Hood guy pulled his gun out of its holster and disappeared behind me, gangster guy took the chairs from the desks and arranged them to face me.

The door opened and three men walked in. My heart skipped a beat when I realized the second one was indeed Najar. The other two had the demeanor of bodyguards; they stayed by the door when Najar walked to stand in front of me.

Fuck! Shit!! Scheisse! Merde!! I tried to control my breathing and the flow of tears, tried to ignore the pain my bonds were causing me and come up with any coherent thoughts other than curses.

Najar leaned down so that he was at eye level with me.

"Esto es la senorita fastidiosa?" He asked and gangster guy said something affirmative.

"Bien." The Senor said and his lips curled into a cold smile.

"Senorita Taylor?" He locked eyes with me and spoke in a fake polite tone. "Where are my manners, pardon me. I am Alejandro Najar and these are my associates." He waved at the men in the room. His English was heavily accented, but at least I could understand him now.

I tried to glare at him, but I probably couldn't pull it off with my teary eyes.

"I had you brought here because it appears you ignored my earlier attempts to communicate with you." His voice was making my skin crawl; I could sense the danger underneath the spoken words.

He looked behind me and nodded as he straightened up, and hood guy reappeared in my line of vision. Hood guy's hand came forward before I could react, and he ripped the tape away from my mouth.

I howled in pain as at least the top layer of my skin came off with the tape.

Najar shook his head and wagged a finger at Hood Guy. "Ricardo, do not hurt the senorita. Apologize!" His eyes were belying his words, he seemed to enjoy the pain I was showing.

How ironic. One of my captors shared a first name with Ranger.

"Lo siento, puta." Ricardo said and all men chuckled. I understood that much Spanish and bit back a response. My temper could get me into real trouble if I'd allow it to control my mouth, I realized. Well, even more real trouble. So I decided to bite my tongue.

"Such language." Najar rolled his eyes in mock exasperation and this drew another chuckle from his men.

"What do you want from me?" I pressed out through clenched teeth. What had happened to my resolve to keep quiet??

Najar's hand jerked forward and he slapped me across the face, the impact knocking me sideways. I brought the chair down with me when I crashed on the floor. My ears were ringing, my eyes burned, and I was pretty sure I had at least twisted my ankle when it had caught the chair leg on the way down.

Ricardo lifted me back up. The Senor was wiping his hands in a towel Gangster Guy handed him.

I could feel my eye swell shut and I ran my tongue over my teeth to make sure they were still there when I tasted blood.

My left wrist was bleeding; the cuff had sliced into it when I had pulled on it during my fall.

"Do not speak to me unless I ask you a question." Najar instructed and the polite tone was gone from his voice.

Suddenly, all the pictures Ranger had shown me were projected before my inner eye, all the victims of Najar's handiwork. I was crying uncontrollably now. To make matters worse, I had to pee urgently.

I no longer thought Ranger or any of the Merry Men had followed me. Surely they would have barged in as soon as the Senor had arrived.

I was on my own, nothing between a sadistic madman and me. The thought made me shiver and I saw amusement in Najar's eyes.

"Now that I have your attention," he said, studying his manicured fingernails "Let me introduce you to Miguel."

He motioned to one of the bodyguards who opened the door. Pedro Guy appeared and stood at Najar's side.

"Miguel, this here is Senorita Taylor, she will be enjoying our hospitality today. Miss Taylor, Miguel will take good care of you from now on. Sadly, I will not have the pleasure of entertaining you myself anymore, I have business to attend to. It was a pleasure making your acquaintance. I am sure we will not meet again."

With that, he turned to Miguel and talked to him in Spanish. Miguel nodded and smiled, and my stomach turned.

Najar nodded towards Gangster Guy and Ricardo and left followed by his bodyguards, without another look at me.

Miguel said something that sounded like instructions, all I understood was 'Ricardo' and 'Jorge'. The two men picked me up, chair and all, and carried me out of the room, through a short hallway. Miguel opened another door and I was brought in. The room was bare, except for a large mattress on the floor. A naked light bulb hung from the ceiling, the only window was boarded up.

"This will be much more comfortable, no?" Miguel smiled as he gestured at Ricardo. His smile didn't reach his eyes and I broke into a cold sweat.

I had feared they would kill me. At the sight of the mattress I feared worse.

Ricardo unlocked the cuffs and pulled me out of the chair, Jorge had his gun leveled at me.

I was hurting from my hairline down to my toes, I had to pee and felt like throwing up, and still I had a feeling the worst was yet to come as I was thrown onto the mattress and landed hard.

Miguel gave more instructions and Ricardo disappeared through the door while Jorge kept his gun on me.

"Relax." Miguel said, "Now comes the fun part. La fiesta."

He was grinning now and I could almost see an evil spark in his eyes.

Ricardo returned with a bottle of booze that he handed to Miguel and two rolls of duct tape.

"Ajuda mi." He said to Jorge and tossed him one of the rolls. The two jerked my arms over my head and my legs apart, then they strapped me to the mattress by securing the tape under its corners. Miguel was watching, lifting the bottle to his lips. "Los vestidos!" He said, and now all three were grinning.

Ricardo produced a penknife out of his pocket and snapped it open. I closed my eyes when I felt the blade slice into my pants, cutting them up from the bottom up. My shirt was next and I felt the cold brush of air when my clothes were pulled away from my body.

The men were talking, I heard the liquid slosh in the bottle, and I kept my eyes shut, praying I could pass out.

"Ahora." I heard Miguel say as I felt a weight next to me.


	25. Chapter 25

OK, this is the last chapter of my little story before the epilogue. I hoped you've enjoyed it. Thanks so much for your feedback, it was a pleasure posting for you!

I had no idea it was going to be such a long fanfic, thanks for staying with me!

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: R for language and violence

Disclaimer: They're all JE's characters, except for Sandra. And no one would pay me for Sandra.

Out of my Mind Chapter 25

I could feel Miguel's body heat next to me, but I refused to open my eyes. Whatever was going to happen, I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of me screaming.

Resisting the urge to edge away from him, I conjured up happy images. My cat Riley, the beach on Turks & Caicos I loved so much, Ranger smiling, Joe laughing…

It didn't work. When I felt Miguel's hand on my thigh, I flinched. He laughed, and the other two joined in. Jorge and Ricardo were yelling encouragements. I felt sick and wanted nothing more to throw up all over Miguel, but I was choking on my sobs.

This was every woman's worst nightmare, and I was living it. I was going to be raped and probably killed afterwards; the Senor's words had left little doubt in me as to the outcome of this 'meeting'.

For a moment, I thought I heard sirens somewhere, but they faded away quickly.

For all the times I had seen this kind of situation on TV and in movies, nothing had prepared me for the raw fear I was feeling now. I felt my body shiver, I hurt everywhere, and around me, three men were getting liquored up to violate me. If I somehow lived through this, I was going to leave skid marks on my way out of town.

Miguel said something in Spanish that ended with the word 'puta', whore, and I felt his breath on my face. I gathered up all my courage and opened my eyes for a second, just to aim as I spit into his face. He recoiled in disgust, then slapped me with such force that my right hand tore free from the duct tape. I was seeing stars as my cheek burned and my ears were ringing. New tears started welling up as I forced my eyes shut.

My wrist was screaming in pain when it was grabbed once again and secured to the mattress. Miguel shouted something and a strip of tape was placed on my already sore mouth.

I was squirming now although my body was protesting every movement; I was determined to make it as difficult for the bastards as possible.

Strong hands were grabbing my thighs to immobilize them, I could no longer distinguish their voices as one laughed, another shouted.

Suddenly, I heard a loud 'BANG' somewhere in the building, as if a door was broken down.

Guns were cocked as the hands left my thighs, but I still kept my eyes pressed shut.

I heard the door to the room open and someone leave, and then there were gunshots and shouting.

And finally, blissfully, all sounds faded away and the blackness became colorful. With my mouth taped, my nose couldn't provide enough oxygen for my hyperventilating lungs and I passed out.

My eyes flew open when I felt my leg being lifted and I instinctively kicked out and screamed.

I saw the shapes of men through my tear-curtained eyes, and one of them leaned town to me with a large sharp object in his hand. Screaming so sharply behind the tape that my throat burned, I squirmed as violently as I could.

"LIN!" a voice yelled over my screams. "Lin, it's me, you're safe!"

In my panic, I didn't recognize the voice as Ranger's at first. When my hands were cut free, I flung them out at the shape. His arms encircled me and held me so tight I couldn't move.

"Lin!" he tried again "It's okay, it's over."

Finally, my brain allowed my ears' input and it computed the words. I wailed and collapsed into Ranger's arms, hiccupping sobs that didn't allow me to breathe.

His arms relaxed a little and he held me for what seemed an eternity.

When he released me and I opened my eyes, a paramedic was kneeling next to us, equipment in hand. Ranger lowered me back onto the mattress gently and stepped away.

I turned my head and saw a body lying on the ground facing the door, it was Ricardo. He wasn't moving and no paramedic was taking care of him.

At the foot of the mattress, Tank was holding his groin bent over, my panicky kick must have connected with him.

The Merry Men and Ranger cleaned out, and uniformed cops entered, followed by Morelli.

I winced as the EMT removed the tape from my wrists and ankles and I howled in pain as he ripped my mouth free with one quick movement.

Joe kneeled down next to me and pushed the hair away from my forehead. I concentrated on his eyes as the paramedic stuck an IV in me and started dressing my wounds.

I couldn't hear the words, but he was murmuring soothingly while he stroked the parts of my head that weren't bleeding or burning.

A stretcher was brought in and Joe took my hand as the paramedic and two uniforms lifted me up, put a blanked over me and wheeled me out.

I wanted to thank my rescuers, but no words would come. Instead, fresh tears were streaming down my cheeks, burning my skin every time they connected with open wounds.

The hallway was crowded with a mix of Merry Men and cops, yellow crime scene tape was being unraveled and flashers from outside pulsed their lights on the inner walls through the open door.

Joe stayed by my side until I was lifted into the ambulance. He squeezed my hand and said, "I'll be right behind you." Then he let go as I was pushed in.

The paramedic in the ambulance placed an oxygen mask on my nose and mouth and my breathing finally normalized.

Hours passed in a blur, I only had vague images of my arrival at the hospital, the doctors and nurses, being x-rayed, stitched up and cleaned.

I fell asleep shortly after I was wheeled into a typical hospital room, white curtains on both side of my bed, a soft cushion under my head.

When I woke up, Morelli was sitting in a chair next to my bed.

He got up when I groaned. "How are you feeling?"

He took my hand that had an IV feed sticking out of it and was bandaged from the wrist up as he sat down next to me gingerly.

"Like I've been hit by a truck and eaten by a bear." I croaked and attempted a smile.

The movement made my face hurt and I winced in pain.

"Try not to smile for now." Joe said softly as he smiled himself.

"And get some more rest, you've been through a lot!" He leaned in and kissed my forehead.

I closed my eyes. His lips felt warm and soft.

"Tell me what happened." I whispered.

He sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "You'll have to fill in the blanks when you feel up to it, but the short version is, it's over. A snitch called in a tip of the Senor's whereabouts and we were able to arrest him a mile from the hideout with a briefcase of coke on his lap. Sorry it took us so long to backtrack to you."

"And Ranger? He was there, too, right?" I couldn't quite tell how much of what had happened was my imagination.

Joe nodded. "He and his men arrived shortly before us. They had Najar's men pretty much…er…rounded up by the time."

I sank deeper into my pillow and closed my eyes. I knew what he had meant. Ranger had killed to get to me. He had shot potential rapists and murderers, but still, I felt like I had their blood on my hands.

Joe put a finger under my chin. "When you feel better, I will need your statement. But for now, concentrate on getting well, okay?"

I looked up at him and saw pure concern in his eyes. Too late I remembered not to smile, fresh pain spread.

"Can I get you anything?" He asked, frowning.

"Some water?"

He bent over to the bedside table and picked up a plastic cup with a straw in it.

I drank the water greedily, my throat was parched. Whatever painkillers I'd been given were starting to wear off, my body was aching everywhere and my head seemed to explode with a killer headache.

Joe must have sensed my pain. "I'll send in the nurse to take care of you. I'll be back later, okay?"

He got up and I nodded, hoping my eyes revealed the gratefulness I was feeling. He kissed my lips lightly and traced my jawbone with his finger, smiling a goodbye.

Shortly after he had left, a nurse entered and checked the monitors I was hooked up to. She smiled at me and introduced herself, but I instantly forgot her name. I saw her push the contents of a syringe into the IV tube and felt my eyes grow heavy moments later.

The next time I woke up, a doctor in a white coat was standing at the foot of my bed reading a chart. He looked up when I adjusted my position.

"How're you feeling?" He asked on a professional smile.

"Okay, I guess."

"Try not to move too much." He advised, "We have to wait for the swelling to go down to put permanent casts on your leg and wrist."

He stepped closer and read the monitors, writing stuff down on the chart.

"You broke your ankle and dislocated your knee. Two of your wrist bones are also fractured. Along with the abrasions on your face, wrists and ankles, you will be sore for a while. It's best to move as little as possible."

I had no desire to move, I just wanted to sleep. After one thing, maybe…

"I have to go to the bathroom." It was embarrassing to share that information, even if it was with a doctor.

He nodded "I'll send in the nurse. You'll have to get used to a bed pan for now."

Ugh. I could manage the pain but the thought of needing help to pee was humiliating.

I didn't see any alternative though; my body didn't seem to be able to move from the bed.

The doctor left and the same nurse I had met earlier came in.

She helped me take care of my business and I sighed with relief when it was over and she had left.

A knock on the door startled me out of my doze some time later.

Ranger entered, a frown on his face. His lips quirked up into an almost-smile when he saw I was awake.

"Hey." He said.

"Hey yourself." I said, and for some reason, the sight of him brought back the morning's ordeal in vivid details and I started to cry.

He rushed to my side and took me into his arms, carefully avoiding bandaged parts and tubes.

"Shhhhh…" he whispered, "It's going to be okay. You'll be fine."

I believed him. His body heat seeped into me and I was hoping some of his strength came with it.

"I'm sorry." I sniffled, pulling back. "What I wanted to say was 'thank you', not burst into tears…"

He smiled at that and stroked my hair.

"I know." He said. "But there is no need to thank me. I can't tell you how sorry I am for getting you into this. I can't believe we were outwitted like that."

He sat down in the chair next to my bed, took my hand and shook his head slightly.

"I never thought you'd be in that kind of danger, please believe me."

I was choked up from the conflicting emotions in me. All I had felt was gratitude for Ranger and Joe, for rescuing me. I hadn't spared a thought on the fact that none of it had happened if I hadn't followed Ranger's plan. And I couldn't let him take responsibility for it; after all, I had walked into it willingly. True, I had expected expert protection, but I had known the risks.

"It's not your fault." I said softly.

"The hell it ain't!" Ranger said, his voice louder "I should have never let you venture out alone like that! You should have worn a wire, I should have been with you!"

I wanted to tell him he was being too hard on himself, it wasn't his fault, and anyway, it was all over now. But the effort to speak seemed to great right about then.

I squeezed his hand and new pain shot up from my wrist. My eyes closed on their own accord and I moaned as I fell back asleep.

In my nightmare, I saw the grinning faces of Miguel, Ricardo and Jorge, and I wasn't rescued.

My hands and feet were tied again and my bonds wouldn't budge, no matter how hard I struggled. Shapes were descending upon me and fear filled every fiber of my body.

I woke up with a scream and sat bold upright in my bed. It took me a while to remember where I was. My room was dark except for the light that shone in from the small window over the door, and I was alone.

My heart was pounding in my ears and I was breathing like I had run a marathon.

The door burst open and Joe rushed in, not bothering with the light switch.

He was by my side in an instant and took me by the shoulders, telling me I was okay.

I realized I'd been dreaming and slumped back against his hands.

"Go back to sleep." He said, "I'll stay with you."

Joe was asleep in the chair when I woke up the next morning. Sunlight had brightened the room and busy noises from behind the door told me morning was well under way. I took the time to study Joe's sleeping form. His hair was unkempt and his face was hours past a five o'clock shadow. His blue shirt was rumpled from sleeping in it.

I couldn't believe he had stayed all night; his presence must have prevented further nightmares.

The door opened and Joe jumped awake. A different nurse entered and explained she was going to take me to some procedure I didn't understand.

Joe rubbed his eyes and looked at me.

"You feel any better today?"

I nodded. "A little."

It wasn't true, but since there was nothing he could do, I wanted to make him feel better.

He looked relieved, I must have sounded convincing.

The nurse was unhooking various machines and asked Joe to leave.

He squeezed my hand and told me he'd be back.

"Can you bring me some clothes?" I asked, not sure why.

He assured me he would as I was wheeled out of the room.

Tank's face suddenly hovered above me as I was rolled down the corridor.

"How're you feeling?"

I was getting tired of the question, but I knew everybody was just concerned for me. "Better." I repeated my lie.

"Once more with less feeling." He smiled and chucked my chin. Couldn't pull the wool over HIS eyes…

"I'm sorry I kicked you…" He waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it!"

I was wondering who else had spent an uncomfortable night in the hospital with me when the fluorescent lights of the corridor ceiling became the elevator ceiling.

After some very uncomfortable hours of being washed, having my wounds redressed and casts put on my wrist and leg, I was back in my room. I was glad no one had offered me to see my reflection in a mirror, I was sure I looked horrible. One of my eyes was swelled almost shut and whenever my I turned my head and my cheek came in contact with anything it hurt like the mother of all bruises.

A tray in front of me, I was trying to navigate food into my mouth with my left, cast-less, hand, not having much luck with it.

Ranger entered my room, a black duffel back in his hand.

He smiled a hello and took a seat on the chair. When he realized my struggle, he stood up again and took the spoon from my hand.

"Let me." He said and started feeding me. I knew I should have been embarrassed, but it felt too nice to be taken care of.

I hadn't eaten since breakfast a day before, but I couldn't manage more than a few spoonfuls of mashed potatoes and a pudding. I shook my head at the piece of meatloaf Ranger was offering and sank back.

"Did you kill them all?" I asked, apropos of nothing.

Ranger's expression changed from concerned to unreadable.

"No." he said, put the spoon down and said down on the chair. "Just two of them."

"How many were there?"

"Five. The survivors were lucky the cops arrived, we wouldn't have left anyone alive."

His voice was steady and I had no doubt he meant what he said.

"Don't worry about that now." Ranger said, interpreting my silence. "Just get well."

I was pumped full of medication and my brain didn't allow any serious thoughts through the drug-induced haze anyway, so I wasn't worried. I didn't know how I felt about indirectly causing someone's death, guilty or not. And I didn't know how I felt about Ranger killing for me, but I couldn't find the words to explain that to him.

"I brought you some clothes."

I attempted a smile again. "Thank you. I feel awfully naked in nothing but this paper gown."

"Figured." He winked.

Ranger helped me out of the gown in question and into a loose-fitting RangeMan sweatshirt, then he cut sweatpants to fit them over my leg cast. I gasped at the sight of my bruised limbs, but Ranger's expression remained passive, a medic dressing a patient.

I was exhausted after the ordeal and slumped back into the pillow.

"They're gonna keep you here for a while…" Ranger said thoughtfully, as if there was more, something he wasn't telling me.

"And?"

"…and I would understand if that would be the end of your trial period at RangeMan…"

I couldn't figure out whether he was happy or upset with that prospect. I hadn't really thought about the future.

"You firing me?"

His eyebrow rose up. "No! No, I'd like you to stay. But I'd understand if you could never trust us again."

What now? Where had that come from? My head started hurting in an effort to concentrate.

"Ranger, I trust you with my life!" I blurted out. It was true, I realized.

He looked relieved.

I figured this was as good a time as any and took a deep breath.

"But if I'm going to continue working for you, there's something I have to tell you…"

He stood up and took my hand. "I already know." He said simply.

"You do?" I asked, my voice sounding shrill.

"I know you're not a hotshot bounty hunter from Boston." He was the picture of calm.

"How long have you known?"

"Ever since RangeMan Boston told me they couldn't find a trace of you anywhere."

"And you hired me anyway?"

"I hired you anyway. I saw potential." He winked at me again and I may have blushed.

"But there's more…" I couldn't bear to look into his eyes anymore, determined to come clean.

"Yes?" He encouraged.

"My name isn't Lindsay Taylor. I'm Sandra Cline, systems administrator at Harvard University, school of law." There. I had said it. The truth was out.

"Harvard, huh?" Ranger smiled.

He didn't look the least bit surprised.

"And I'd…I'd understand if that was grounds for terminating my employment…"

He took my hand, still smiling.

"You haven't filled out any paperwork yet, so you didn't lie. I'd have to reason to fire you."

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Whenever I'd imagined telling Ranger my big secret, I'd visualized him becoming stone-faced and showing me the door.

I let out a whoosh of air. There was something to the saying, the truth had definitely set me free to some extend; I felt a huge burden lifted.

"You're not mad?" I asked, studying his face, once again able to make eye contact.

"No, I'm not mad." He chuckled "I'm proud of you, Babe!'

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. "Just concentrate on getting better now, there'll be a desk job waiting for you when you get out!"

He left shortly after my big confession and I wondered if it had been my timing that had helped me out. Maybe Ranger had felt so guilty over having me get hurt that my lie seemed trite in comparison? In any case, I had no more secrets. Well, maybe tiny ones that were mostly unshared thoughts about him.

I was determined to tell Joe next.

If I wanted a fresh start in Trenton, I couldn't have the baggage of keeping a fake persona alive.

I realized with a start that my mind was made up, I wasn't going to return to Boston. And I was excited about my new life!

Eating, getting dressed and confessing had worn me out, and I fell asleep feeling content.

It was over. My life was no longer in danger.

And Lindsay Taylor was dead.


	26. Chapter 26

Here it is – the end.

I hope you have enjoyed this little brainchild of mine. Thanks for all your feedback.

I had no idea it was going to be such a long fanfic, thanks for staying with me!

Spoilers: None. It's its own universe, I blame it all on the gin

Rating: G

Disclaimer: They're all JE's characters, except for Sandra. And no one would pay me for Sandra.

Out of my Mind – Epilogue

After a few days, the fog had lifted and I had grown tired of hospital life. Joe, Ranger, and the Merry Men took turns visiting me, so I'd never been bored for long, but I had been antsy to get out just the same. With a few prescriptions in hand, I was released after a week. Tank and Bobby had helped me clear the hospital room of all flowers, books and stuffed animals I had accumulated and had chauffeured me home.

The Senor was held without bail, awaiting his trial. I still didn't know if I'd be called to testify, it depended on whether or not they would add kidnapping and assault charges to the list of indictments. I was not looking forward to seeing him again. But in any case, he was out of the picture and his goons had wasted little time leaving the area. There were still a lot of outstanding arrest warrants against them, but the search for them was concentrated on their home turf in Miami. In the wake of his arrest, his lawyer, Sam Daltrey, had fled Trenton and was also a wanted man now. Several cops and judges had been outed as being on the Senor's payroll and had left the system, some awaiting trial, others cutting deals.

Jorge and Miguel had also been arrested and as a crucial witness in the case against them, I would definitely have to face them again. But that was in the future, and I had decided to deal with it when the time came.

After my statement while I was still in the hospital, RangeMan had been cleared of all charges, and it was acknowledged that they had aided in the arrest of wanted criminals.

I had placed a cowardly call to my employer, quitting my job at Harvard and with it my former life.

Ranger had RangeMan Boston employees clean out my apartment and move my belongings and cat from Boston to Trenton, where Ranger had rented an apartment in my name. My real name.

I had finally called my friend Jess and had told her the story from the beginning, although I doubted she'd believe me until she'd come down and saw for herself.

My parents had been informed and had called me crazy, all urgent formalities had been taken care of.

I leaned back on my couch and propped my injured leg up on the coffee table. Riley took that as his cue and jumped up on my lap.

I had been home for a week now, and I was getting excited about starting my job at RangeMan in the coming week. I'd be on crutches and typing would be slow one-handed, but I'd get out of the house.

Ranger had let me buy the Beetle from him after I insisted, and I paid the rent on my two-bedroom apartment in a nice part of Trenton I had yet to get to know. A merry man showed up every day with groceries and some time to chat. When the socializing time was over, I was instructed on RangeMan's computer search programs, business partners and benefits plan.

Joe had called every day and sometimes came over if his schedule allowed. It had been harder to tell him about my true identity than it had been telling Ranger, but he had eventually believed me that I had had no ill intentions and none of it had been planned.

I sighed contented.

True, my wrist and leg were still in a cast, and that made every bath time and adventure, and I had left my friends behind in Boston. I still couldn't face a mirror without grimacing and hoped my face would return to normal without scarring. A week from now, the stitches in my wrist and ankles would come out and I'd see if there would be lasting or visual damage.

But my new life came with an exciting job, great colleagues, a hotter-than-hot boss and a certain cop friend whom I intended to get to know a lot better as soon as I'd be able to walk again.

The past weeks had held excitement, pain, fear and worry, and yet I felt better than I had in years. I even had plans to do some light skip tracing when I got back on both feet, if Vinnie would let me.

Riley jumped up when the doorbell rang and I got up slowly and hobbled to the door.

Ranger had taken today's grocery delivery and he had a full-on smile on his face when I opened the door.

"You have a key!" I scowled "You didn't have to make me get up!" But I couldn't pull off the annoyed mood, I was too happy to see him.

He dropped the bag he had been holding and picked me up.

"Allow me!" He laughed and carried me back to the couch.

Apart from light hugs and kisses, I hadn't been close to Ranger since the afternoon at my studio at RangeMan. Without talking about it, we had agreed on a friendship that would hold up in a working relationship. I for one didn't rule out a real relationship for the future, but I had time to wait now.

Ranger made sure I was seated comfortably, then he retrieved the bag from the foyer and disappeared into the kitchen.

"You hungry?" He yelled out.

"You got TastyKakes?" I shot back and his laughter rang out to me.

I didn't get trans fat-filled pastries, but a tasty steak with a leafy salad, and it was divine.

Ranger looked pleased as I sat back satisfied.

"That was delicious." I said "You should cook for me more often!"

He smiled at that. "You'd have to pay me…"

I blushed and berated myself for letting him have such an effect on me.

We talked for a while about the upcoming week, and the he had to leave. To do the things Batman does, I presumed.

I made myself comfortable on the couch again and remoted the TV on.

Yes, I was ready. 'Trenton, here I come!' I thought.

Lindsay Taylor was dead. Although I intended to frame the driver's license and credit cards in her name as soon as I had use of my right hand again. A souvenir of the wildest time of my life. Well, thus far at least.

If I took the time to think about the craziness of it all, I'd go insane, so I went the Scarlett O'Hara route on that one. "I'll think about it tomorrow."

Or never.


End file.
